We Just Happened
by Vampire00Diaries
Summary: Elena Gilbert, one of the most popular actresses in America, isn't too pleased when she is sent to Europe to film another movie. She definitely doesn't expect to fall for Stefan, a low-class intern... or have him completely change her. But can he keep her safe from the sudden danger manifesting itself in London? AU Stelena!
1. Chapter 1

I let out a deep sigh, practically glaring into the mirror as I tried to get into a pair of leather skinny jeans that clung way too much. My hair was teased up, and heavy makeup outlined my eyes, somehow making them look even bigger. I hated this costume -a lot- but I couldn't describe the way I felt in it; I felt edgy, bold... like the character I was playing.

It was interesting.

Finally, once I got the jeans on, I smoothed out the front of my tank top and made sure my lip gloss looked okay, despite my makeup artist's orders not to touch it.

That was when the knock came to my door, making me jump a little bit. "Miss Gilbert? I have your coffee... One cream and two sugars just like you asked." His strange Italian-British-American accent, one that wasn't found too often here in London -or anywhere- made me relax in recognition. I quickly opened the door for him.

"Thanks, Stefan," I forced out a smile. "And please... stop calling me Miss Gilbert. Elena's perfectly fine." I made sure to be extra loud, in case anyone on set was walking by.

"I'd prefer Miss Gilbert," he replied flatly, keeping his gaze to the ground as he adjusted his glasses. It seemed to be something he was quite used to doing around me at work, looking away, keeping his green eyes as far away from meeting mine as possible. I hated it. "It's more... professional."

I fought back the urge to roll my eyes. I hated it when he acted like this, though I understood, and I quickly closed the dressing room door behind him. Taking the coffee out of his loose hands, I stepped close, lifting his chin so that our faces were inches apart. His eyes, hidden behind those black, nerdy glasses that were stupidly in style instantly softened when he heard the click of the door, his arms quickly wrapping around my waist to pull me against him. His lips, his soft and alluring lips, brushed against my cheek and I briefly closed my eyes. "When am I going to be able to take you on a real date, Elena?" he whispered. I loved the way he said my name, as if it was the most unique sound that had ever escaped his lips; he gave me chills.

"Soon," I answered quickly, lifting his head up so his eyes were gazing into mine. "As soon as I get management off of my back and the paparazzi, I'm all yours, love." With that, I crashed my lips against his eagerly, and he complied, pulling me so close my body rushed with a sudden fire.

I had no clue how it happened... Stefan and me. He was an intern, the last person I ever should have even spoken to, but somehow, we just happened.

We had to keep it a secret though; I hated it so much, and I knew he did too, even though he wouldn't admit it to me. I knew I couldn't have bad publicity right before my movie came out. But nevertheless, that didn't matter too much to us... as long as we could have simple, secluded moments like these. They were enough.

Somehow, by chance of fate, I fell in love with Stefan Salvatore, and this is my story.

* * *

_**AN: Okay, this is a new fanfic I'm starting :) This is a little taste of it and I hope you all enjoyed it! Please review and let me know what you thought! Should I continue? Thanks! Xoxo**_

_**-Sara**_


	2. Chapter 2

"My hand hurts," I muttered to myself as I signed poster after poster, leaving them all in one huge pile to my right. It had to be at least midnight, but then again, I didn't know for sure; it depended on where we were currently flying.

That was what my whole day had consisted of: signing posters for fans on a flight to England. Don't get me wrong; I loved my fans, I loved meeting them... but being a celebrity wasn't as fun as it seemed to be in my childhood dreams.

"Stop complaining, kiddo," Alaric, my manager, encouraged, placing a light hand on my back. "Just finish these up, read through your new script, and then you can get some sleep... deal?"

"Ric, it's over one hundred pages. How am I supposed to finish it before we land?" I breathed, signing the last poster and slapping it on the very top of the stack.

"Maybe you should've read it ahead of time, hmmm?" That was when Katherine, my cousin and -ridiculously enough- my stunt-double, decided to speak up. I sent her a glare. "Look, Elena, I know you don't want to be in this movie, but relax, alright? You're famous; get over it. It's not the hardest job in the world."

I sent her a death stare, one that instantly shut her up.

* * *

London was absolutely breathtaking. It had this old feel to it that I absolutely loved; the stereotypical red and beige you always saw in movies seemed to be the opposite of the actual city, which was teeming with different colors and people. The beautiful lights, which shone with reds, blues, and yellows lit up every street at night. A few blocks away, I could spot a huge, purple-lit ferris wheel. I definitely would convince myself to go up there at some point.

Now, though, I was in a warm, dimly lit pub. I sighed to myself as I took a long, warm sip of hot chocolate. I had to admit, it had been a while since I'd been somewhere by myself without being recognized, and it was nice. "No ale for ya, Miss?" the blonde waitress asked me in a slight Irish accent. Smiling politely, I shook my head and said no. "Where ya from?" she asked.

"California." I lightly trailed my fingers along the warm, gray mug. Her entire face lit up when she smiled; her grin was so bright that I couldn't help but smile back.

"America?" she questioned pleasantly. "I've always wanted to go. My friend went to college there for a semester. We almost couldn't get him out of New York, he loved it so much!" She smiled fondly as she thought about this "friend" of hers. I usually wasn't one for small talk, but this was nice, easy.

"Can't blame him," I smiled. "New York is a pretty special place."

She chuckled. "It seems like it is!" Briefly, the blonde bartender excused herself to fill up more mugs of ale for customers. Just as she was returning to chat with me some more, -I probably looked so lonely and so lost to her- her face lit up when she heard the jingle of the door. Looking over the bar, she shouted, "There's the man of the hour! Ey, Stefan!"

Due to the fact that almost everyone in the tavern raised their mugs and shouted a friendly "hello" to him, I decided to turn around to see who all the fuss was about. I instantly froze. There he stood, a broad-shouldered young man with a gentle, smiling, strangely beautiful face. He quickly took off his black, leather jacket, swinging it over his shoulder as he walked to the bar with a slight swagger and bounce that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. For him though, it worked. It more than worked.

He was mesmerizing. Hypnotic.

"Look at you!" the blonde waitress exclaimed as soon as he sat down at the stool beside me. "Ya even look legal, Stef! Tonight, for you, we have ale, ale, and ale! What'll it be?"

He tilted his head down a little and laughed, a quiet, reserved sound that sent chills through my spine. Sure, I had seen tons of attractive men; after all, I lived in Hollywood, but him... there was just something interesting about him. "Good evening, Miss Caroline," he greeted politely, if not a little jokingly. "Tough decision."

I laughed at this, although I instantly regretted it when he glanced over at me with a little smile. Oh no- did he think I was eavesdropping? His gaze lingered on mine a little longer than it should have, and for a moment, I forgot what breathing was. I couldn't read his face. What was the message hiding behind those green eyes of his? I had almost expected -or hoped for- a flirtatious glance, something that made me bite my lip and bashfully look away, but instead, he gave me a gentle grin... It seemed to do more to me than any lustful look could have. It was a strange feeling that this stranger gave me; it wasn't desire or infatuation like I had half expected. No, it was... understanding? Appreciation? Excitement? I couldn't place it. Couldn't quite place him.

"Eh, I'll choose for you," Caroline giggled, stepping away.

When he finally tore his gaze from mine, I fingered the handle of my hot chocolate and desperately racked my brain for the right words. "Have we met before?" I finally got out. It was a stupid question, I know. Of course not; I would have remembered him. But there was just something about him, something that drew me in like a magnet...

I wondered if he felt it too.

"I don't believe we have," he replied politely, that soft grin still toying with the corners of his lips. His voice was deep, but not too deep, a perfect combination of accents. He sounded British, Italian, and American at the same time. "I'm Stefan Salvatore."

I smiled back and warmly placed my hand in his, giving it a shake. His grip was firm. Right. "Elena. Elena Gilbert."

"It's a pleasure, Miss Gilbert," he said as he released my hand. After she placed his mug of ale on the counter, Stefan thanked Caroline. She smiled at him and complained about being busy before rushing off to tend to another drunken customer. He then turned back to me, and my heart skipped a beat. "You have an American accent," he noted lightly. "Where are you from, Elena?"

I decided then that I really liked the way my name sounded when it came from his lips.

"California. Hollywood," I started, smiling a little at him as I subconsciously tucked a strand of hair behind my ears. "I'm an actress... here on business."

He arched a brow curiously. "Really?" I laughed nervously and nodded, glancing down at my now cold hot chocolate on the table. "What kind of work do you do?"

I bit my lower lip. I had no clue why, but I liked this guy; I liked how he was talking to me and showing interest, I liked how he made me feel like a nervous high school girl again. "Film, mainly. A little TV. I dapple, I guess."

Stefan laughed, a low, throaty sound that made me laugh too. "That's cool. I've always loved... what do you call it... um, showbiz?" The word sounded awkward and hesitant, making me chuckle. "I take some small interning jobs now, but I'm hoping to write in the future."

"Really?" I questioned, interested.

"Yes," he responded, shyly averting his gaze. "Maybe one day I'll see you in one of my movies," he joked. I nodded, impressed by his aspiration and drive. I could see it behind his eyes... I liked it.

"Maybe," I added, a little too flirtatiously than I had intended. He didn't seem to mind one bit.

Then, he turned his gaze away from mine, and for some odd reason, I felt my heart drop, like this strange, electrical connection between us had been broken. Maybe I was just overreacting. "Care," he motioned the blonde over. "Can I get another ale please for Miss Gilbert?" He gestured to me, making me bite my lip.

"Oh no, that's okay...," I mumbled.

"No, no, I insist," he urged. How could I resist?

* * *

A few hours and a few drinks later, I was still sitting at the stool of the pub, chatting with Stefan, the gorgeous, mysterious writer whose mere presence seemed to make me quiver. I'd learned a few things about him during our talk: he was eighteen, fluent in Italian, loved Nutella but hated peanut butter, and was planning to someday write a novel or movie. It was crazy how easy it was to talk to him. For the first time, I felt like someone was interested in me and only me, not the famous Elena Gilbert who was constantly in the American spotlight. With him, I was normal, yet I was special. In his eyes, I was special.

"Fries? What are fries?" he laughed. "They're chips!"

I giggled, shaking my head. Somehow, we'd gotten onto the topic of American and British words. "If you got to a restaurant in America and you order chips, you're getting potato chips. You know... the thin yellow ones in the bag..."

"Potato crisps?" he asked. I laughed. I didn't even know why; he just made me giddy.

"Gosh," I chuckled playfully. "The language barrier!"

Stefan smiled at me, that slight, charming smile of his that made me grin stupidly in return. A few hours ago, I was dreading going to another country for three whole months, but now, maybe my trip had become a little more bearable.

Just as I was about to say something else, I was interrupted with a desperate shout that came from the front of the tavern. A woman, probably around thirty, looked grief stricken and terrified. Blood was staining her cotton shirt, her body visibly shaky. "Help, someone help!" she shouted, clearly panicked beyond belief. "My sister! I think she's dead! Oh lord, she's bloody dead! Her neck, it was torn open! It looks like an animal tore her throat out! She can't be dead! She... she can't be! Help! Someone!"

Everyone who was in the bar urgently followed the babbling woman outside. Stefan, always the gentleman, rushed up front to put a comforting hand on the woman's back as she continued to shout, cry and scream. If I wasn't so overwhelmed by terror, I probably would have gazed at him with admiration. But as soon as I rushed outside and saw the mess of blood, flesh, and torn up cloth on the stony street, my body swelled with fear.

A set of chills rushed through my body. Something wasn't right...

* * *

_**AN: I hope you all liked this chapter! I'm still contemplating whether to continue or not... let me know what you thought and if I should continue :) I know this was kind of an introductor chapter where Stefan and Elena are just meeting each other, but if you want to see it, next chapter will probably take place at the actual movie set. What did you think? Did you like Elena and Stefan? What would you like to see more of?**_

_**Please leave a review! Thanks so much! **_

**_Xoxo :)_**

**_Sara_**


	3. Chapter 3

"Annalise Fisher, age 20, was found outside of a local pub in downtown London two nights ago. Her throat appeared to have been torn out, and by the time paramedics arrived, her body could not be salvaged. This is the second person this month who has been killed from these strange attacks." I shivered a bit as I listened to the radio on our way to the movie set. The morning sun was strong, even through my sunglasses; I vaguely wondered how a day could be so bright after such a horrific event. "Some doctors claim that this may be more than an animal attack, but in fact homocide. Could it be that London is repeating history? Will we be facing the next Jack the Ripper?"

I shuddered as I remembered the stories Katherine used to tell me about Jack the Ripper, an anonymous murderer in London who killed his innocent victims by cutting them open. "Can we listen to something else?" I asked sternly to the driver, who quickly changed the station.

"What did the body look like?" Katherine questioned, her brow arched in sick amusement as she turned to look at me. I decided not to respond, repulsed by her interest in the matter.

After I spotted the woman and the police got rid of most of the crowd the other night, I was trembling and unmoving. I didn't know why, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the lifeless woman on the ground. My teeth were chattering in seizing fear, my eyes dry from not blinking. I nearly screamed when Stefan lightly placed a hand on my shoulder, but sighed in recognition when I met his green eyes. When he asked me how far away my hotel was, I told him it wasn't too far, and he offered to walk me home... he actually offered to walk me home! Why couldn't American guys be that charming?

As Stefan and I walked, he gave me a mini tour of London that temporarily took my mind off of the gruesome murder victim at the pub. I actually laughed a few times! Leaving a tingling kiss on my hand, he told me that he had a great time with me despite the insanity. I agreed, and as soon as I got inside of the hotel, my heart sank. Would I ever see my familiar stranger again? I had sure hoped so.

"Elena?" Alaric's voice snapped me out of my daze.

"Hmm?"

"We're here," he said simply.

Letting out a deep sigh, I slid out of the Range Rover. My mouth almost dropped when I spotted the filming location. On the top of a grassy hill which overlooked a gray, rocky cliff, a quaint stone house sat. It looked old and had no windows, but it was absolutely breathtaking.

I spent the entire morning in hair and makeup, reading over my script, trying out different voices and phrases. My character, a modest, lost girl who decided to move from home and go on tons of adventures alone, seemed to be someone who I wanted to be in real life. The scene we were filming today took place at her house as she was leaving, and as I ran Chapstick repeatedly over my lips and stared intently at the words written on the page, back to the door, I tried to go over different English accents for my character.

"Good mo'nin, Mr. Alcott," I enunciated. No. My voice was way too high. I exhaled deeply and tried again, altering my voice so it was a little lower. "Good monnin', Mistuh Alcut," I tried.

"That's a stereotypical British accent."

My body went rigid.

I would recognize that unique, deep voice anywhere. That strange but smooth accent, the one that sounded British, Italian, and American at the same time...

Turning around, I was greeted with Stefan's gentle smile, until our eyes met and it faded. As soon as he got a glimpse of my face, his face flickered with recognition, confusion, and shock. Brows furrowed, he tilted his head to the side. My heart did that weird fluttering thing again, and I anxiously nibbled on my bottom lip.

"Stefan?" I questioned slowly. Oh, no... was it weird that I remembered his name? I mean, probably not, right? After all, we talked all night a few days ago... but then again, maybe he talked to girls at the bar all the time. Surely, someone who looked as handsome as he wouldn't be one to restrain themselves from constant flirtation.

"Elena." And once again, I realized that my name sounded better when he said it. The way his tongue ever so lightly curved as he enunciated every syllable was... distracting. He said my name like it was a statement, a brand new word that he wanted to repeat over and over again. He said it with confidence, with pleasant surprise.

"What are you doing here?" I asked once I got over the initial shock of his presence. Deciding to be playful, I teased, "You following me?"

He bashfully bowed his head; I figured that it was a little habit of his when he was trying not to blush. "You'd think!" he joked pleasantly. "I'm working with the movie for something to put on my college applications. My brother... he's producing; he helped me out. What are you doing here? I didn't even recognize you!"

I giggled lightly. "I know... It's because of this curly hair," I said, running my hands through my styled waves. Glancing over him, I finally took note of how different his appearance was. Unlike the composed, confidence-emitting man who had walked into the bar the other night, he looked young, nervous. Like a teenager on their first day of work. It then struck me that maybe it was in fact his first day of work. Clad in a plaid button up shirt and nice jeans, he seemed... normal. Maybe I was just charmed because of the fact that he was wearing those lense-less, black glasses that were in style for some preposterous reason. They worked on him, though. I had a feeling anything would work on him. "Are you interning?"

His lips flattened out a little bit, a sign of his apparent embarrassment. "Yes," he responded simply.

Despite Stefan's expressed shame, I smiled. "Hey, you've got to start somewhere, right? This gives you something to do while you're working on that novel that's going to be a national best-seller." When I saw his shoulders relax a bit and heard his gentle laughter, I continued, "So when you came in, you were criticizing my British accent..." Challenging him, I arched a brow, crossing my arms over my chest.

His face broke out in a daring grin. "Don't get me wrong. It was good, but far too proper. I mean, I can't blame you. Like I said, it wasn't bad, especially for someone who came to London without knowing what chips were..."

I laughed at his reference to our silly conversation back at the tavern when we had first met. "Don't judge!" I giggled. Had we really only met once before this? "So, how can I improve, Mr. drama teacher?"

"Try relaxing your lips when you say it," he tried, cautiously taking a timid step closer to me. "Americans always move their lips in this way that makes me think they should be sticking their pinky out and grabbing a cup of tea." He crinkled his nose in disgust. I tried not to smile at how serious he was being. "Just relax when you talk. What's the line?"

"Good morning, Mr. Alcott," I said. Wow, what a pathetic line.

"Okay," he nodded, stiffening his posture. "Watch me." Attempting to keep a straight face, I stared at his lips as he spoke. "Good morning, Mr. Alcott." Was it terrible that I couldn't even hear the words that he had just said? I was too concentrated on his lips, those soft, sensual lips... and the way that he absently licked them afterwards. "Did you get it?"

"What?" I jumped, like a student who had been spacing out and was called on by the teacher. "Oh! Um, you might have to try it again...," I said slowly, flirtatiously. He laughed, and my stomach felt like it had flipped. "Ok. I'll try." When Stefan nodded, I grinned and daringly whispered back, "watch my lips."

"Good morning, Mr. Alcott." My voice was too slow, too shaky, and I knew it; how could I concentrate when I knew he was concentrating on the subtle way my lips curved. He made me so nervous, and I couldn't get enough of it! "How was that?"

"Perfect," he complimented, grinning. "Perfect."

Like a schoolgirl with a crush, I was resisting the temptation to run my hands through my hair. "Really?"

That was when Katherine decided to walk in. "Elena! They want you now- I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" With a displeased look on her face and her arms crossed, she glared at Stefan like an animal in the zoo.

"Of course not." It was then that I realized how close we were standing. Stefan stepped away and shook his head. "Enjoy your... water," he stated. I furrowed my brows.

I glanced at Stefan from the corner of my eye. "I'll be out in a second, Kat."

"They said now," she said flatly. As soon as Stefan was out of the room, she gave me the strangest look I've ever seen. "An intern? Really? On the first day, Elena? He walks around delivering coffee..."

I avoided her sharp gaze. "What? I didn't say anything to him. He was just stopping in to deliver a water bottle like he said."

Little did I know that this was just the beginning of our endless lies and excuses.

* * *

_**Hope you all enjoyed! Please review and let me know if you want another chapter! As long as you want to read it, I will update as soon as possible! What did you think? :) Thanks!**_

_**-Sara**_


	4. Chapter 4

Whenever I felt Stefan's secretive gaze on me at work, he innocently glanced away as soon as I turned around. There was no denying that it put a smile on my face. There was just something special about the intern's lingering stare, something indescribable yet wonderful that sent my heart on a marathon and had my body tingling to the tips of my hair.

We'd been at work for three days now, and I hadn't spoken to him since he tried to help me with my English accent in my dressing room. Or, rather, he hadn't spoken to me. Aside from his glances and smiles, he seemed to be avoiding me; every time we were in the same room and he didn't bother looking up right away, my heart practically dropped. He gave me a small nod in greeting, but didn't bother to approach me. A part of me wondered if Katherine had spoken to him, but I figured that she hadn't.

As my makeup artist touched up on my blush and lip gloss, the bristles gently tickling my cheek, I turned my attention to Stefan, who was currently chewing on the back of his pen as he looked at a tiny screen intently. Sitting beside him was his brother, Damon Salvatore, a dark-haired, inquisitive man who happened to be one of the producers. Using the pen in his hand, Stefan arched an eyebrow in concentration and pointed to something on the screen. I watched as Stefan's lips moved a mile a minute and Damon smirked in response. He was clearly impressed.

I was impressed, too, and I didn't even know what they were talking about.

Damon placed a proud hand on his brother's shoulder before approaching the camera men and director. Stefan stayed at the screen, scribbling notes down onto a little blue steno pad that he kept in his back pocket. I had to admit, watching Stefan so enveloped in his work... it was a turn on.

Pushing my thoughts away, I let out a long sigh. What was it about Stefan Salvatore that kept me coming back for more? Why did I long to hear his smooth voice say my name again, watch as word after poetic word flowed from his lips and into my eager ears? I'd truly only met him twice... but his presence was addictive, like a drug that's impossible to stop taking once you've tried it once. It was more than that, though. When I was talking with Stefan, it felt as easy as breathing, and when he was gone, a part of me went with him. I hardly knew him, and yet there was something about him that already felt essential to my whole being.

"My brother had a great idea," Damon started to the director, and I subtly turned my attention to their conversation, "to move the camera angle a little bit to the right and move the lighting down. I mean he's right... the vibe isn't nearly as ominous as we'd like it to be. She's supposed to be in a dingy club, not an amusement park." The director nodded slowly in agreement, and Damon simply smirked before heading back over to his brother.

"Not a bad idea, Stef," he commended. "If you can make a cup of coffee half as well, maybe I'll have some people in high places write you that letter of recommendation for NYU." It was obvious that he was teasing; Damon was going to do it anyways.

Rolling his eyes at Damon's banter, Stefan slid out of the chair with a dismissive nod and left. But right before he went into the costume room, he turned around to look at me, his head swiftly turning until his eyes rested on mine. I could quickly feel the heat rushing to my cheeks... he knew I'd been staring. Normally, I would have looked away, but not today... Today, I daringly kept my eyes on his, feeling that strange understanding between us open up and flood my heart. I didn't blink, didn't move. I needed to feel some sort of connection with him; we'd been so distant for the past few days, and any contact I could get, I'd take. Of course, Stefan was the one to look away, and I gritted my teeth in frustration. Why was he acting so strange? What had changed so suddenly?

* * *

As soon as I finished filming, I made sure to catch up with Stefan before he got into his old-fashioned, red porsche. As he hastily packed the trunk with papers and his laptop case, I crossed my arms and rested against the wall of the building we'd been filming at. "Nice car," I started, making him jump a bit.

Letting out an exasperated laugh, Stefan shook his head. "Thanks," he chuckled. As he closed the trunk, he glanced over at me, and I instantly saw his eyes glaze over. The look in his green eyes made me freeze in nervous curiosity, afraid that if I made one move he'd look away. And I didn't want him to stop staring at me like that. Ever.

I knew what I must have looked like to him. My character, Eliza, had just attended a masquerade ball, and although I changed my clothes, I did not bother taking any makeup off. With my hair straightened and half pulled up, and my golden makeup heavy around my wide, brown eyes, my appearance was probably ridiculous, like a high school girl getting ready for prom. Maybe he was just amused. "You're staring, Mr. Salvatore," I teased hesitantly.

Snapping out of whatever daze he was in, Stefan cleared his throat and glanced down. He bit the bottom of his lip shyly, almost awkwardly lifting his arm to gesture to me. "Sorry, uh, it's just... you look, um..."

"Insane? Ridiculous? I know. I'll-"

He interrupted me. "Beautiful." Beautiful? If he moved just a step closer, he probably would have heard my heart pounding out of my chest. I smiled to myself and briefly glanced into his eyes, which were already swimming with regret. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, confusedly, as if he hadn't meant to say those words out loud.

"It's okay," I said smoothly, trying to hide the wide smile that was fighting to form on my lips. There was just something about him that made my stomach flutter. "I think anyone would look pretty with all of this makeup on their face anyways," I started, acting as if his compliment had no effect on me.

He laughed lightly. "I wasn't talking about the makeup."

How did he do this to me? My legs felt like jello. "What were you talking about then?"

Stefan didn't dare look at me, and suddenly became interested in cleaning a non-existent spot on his car. "I should probably be getting home. I promised Caroline I would give her a hand at the pub tonight..."

My shoulders hunched in defeat. He was acting so strange, so quiet, so distant. I wanted to know why, and I intended to find out. "Wait," I said. When he turned to look at me, I placed my hands on my hips. "I came over here for a reason. I was wondering... are you free tonight? After you work at the tavern, of course... I wanted some help with my British accent. I could've called the dialogue coach, but you're better at it. She's American and does that weird lip movement and tea and pinky thing you were telling me about."

Sighing, Stefan turned to look at me. I could've almost sworn he was trying to hold back a chuckle. "I can stop by your hotel at nine o'clock?"  
"See you then," I confirmed with a grin.

I was going to figure this man out if it was the last thing I did.

* * *

I checked the clock quickly, like I had been for the past few hours. Yes! Finally it had changed from 8:49 to 8:50. Ten minutes until Stefan would arrive. I felt stupid, beyond stupid, for getting so anxious and worked up over an intern who was coming to help me with lines, but I had made sure to apply the right amount of lip gloss and eyeshadow. Not too much, not too little. I knew this wasn't a date, but couldn't I pretend for a little while? I hadn't felt this normal in years, and I liked it; I liked the way he made me feel, and I could only hope that it was mutual.

Wow. It was strange, but I had a crush on Stefan Salvatore. A giddy, schoolgirl crush.

When the telephone rang, I quickly walked over and answered it. "Hello?" I greeted politely.

"Miss Gilbert, there is a young man at the front desk saying he is supposed to meet with you...,"  
I grinned lightly. "You can tell him my suite number," I said with a nodded. When the hotel worker agreed and hung up, I placed the phone back on the table and let out a deep breath. In a few minutes, I would try and figure out what Stefan's problem with me at work was.

Three sturdy knocks made me jump. Running my fingers through my hair, I bit my lip and opened the door, only to be greeted with Stefan's warm eyes. He smiled politely as I took in his appearance. This was the same Stefan I had met at the grill, the one who walked with swagger and relaxed confidence. This was casual Stefan, nighttime Stefan, who differed greatly from daytime Stefan. Daytime Stefan always wore his shirts buttoned up to the very top, and hid behind those ridiculous but cute hipster glasses of his. Nighttime Stefan, on the other hand, was perfectly relaxed in a leather jacket and had his glasses hanging from one of his denim pockets. Two buttons at the top of his gray shirt -which he had worn at work- were now undone, giving me a good glimpse at the toned muscles of his chest.

"Thanks for coming," I greeted, trying not to sound distracted. I stepped aside as he walked in.

"It's a pleasure to be here," he drawled, placing his palm in mine as he kissed the back of my hand. "Thank you for inviting me over. I'm sorry I didn't bring anything, but I assumed that you wouldn't be too charmed over two cans of beer from the pub."

I was charmed by _him_.

"So, should we get to work?" I suggested. When Stefan nodded, I grabbed my script and gestured over to the couch.

* * *

"Nathaniel, I cannot say that it's a pleasure. I've thought about your offer, and I cannot accept." I tried to relax my lips as much as I could, and as soon as I was finished with the line, I prayed that it would meet Stefan's standards.

"That was great!" he complimented. "Much, much better!"

My eyes lit up. "Really?" As Stefan nodded, I grinned brightly at him. We'd been going through lines for about an hour now, and to my dismay, he'd kept it quite professional. Aside from his occasional joke about Americans and British stereotypes, there were no flirtatious hints or comments. "Hey, can we take a short break?" I asked.

"Sure," Stefan shrugged, resting the back of his head against the seat of the couch. After the first few lines, he had decided to sit on the floor while I stretched out on the couch.

"Thanks," I said flatly, glancing down at him. I really wasn't appreciating his distant attitude. So, in an attempt to figure it out, I chimed, "I saw you at work today with Damon. When you gave him the advice about the lighting. It was really smart. I was impressed."

Stefan smiled softly, raising an eyebrow. "You were?"

"Yeah," I confessed, sliding off of the couch to sit next to him on the floor. "You really have an eye for that kind of stuff. I heard Damon say that you wanted to go to NYU..."

Laughing lightly, Stefan looked at me, his green orbs filled with amusement. "Eavesdropping, were we?"

Unable to stifle my giggle, I shrugged my shoulders. "He wasn't exactly whispering," I tried. Stefan playfully rolled his eyes in response. "Well, New York is beautiful. You'll love it there."

"I know," he breathed in admiration. "I grew up there. Well, I lived there for the first seven years of my life, at least. It's a great place."

My mouth dropped a little bit as I pieced it together. "That's where the accent came from!" I couldn't help but laugh when Stefan turned to look at me with a playful confusion. His brows were jokingly furrowed together, his lips in a fine line, except for where they slightly curved up at the sides.

"I do not have an American accent!" he groaned. "I do not have an accent at all."

I shook my head, chuckling. "You do. You definitely do. You have a strange accent, Stefan."

"You're the one with an accent. Not me, Elena."  
I was fighting the urge to jokingly punch his arm. "You're in denial."

"This argument could go on forever," he stated with a dismissive wave of the hand. "It's all about perspective."

I smiled at him, a gentle, admiring smile that I knew he caught. But once again, Stefan chose to ignore it, making my heart drop. I decided to change the subject."Did Katherine talk to you about something?" I finally questioned when his behavior really started to bother me. I was done tip-toeing around him, trying not to set him off or make him glance away.

"Katherine?" he repeated. "Your stunt double?" When I simply nodded, he shook his head, puzzled. "No, why would she?"

Concentrating on the nail polish that was starting to chip on my nails, I didn't dare look over at him. "You started acting differently towards me after the first day of work," I observed. "Quieter."

I quickly turned my attention to him. I could tell that he was holding his breath. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stefan," I reasoned, "I know when someone's trying to avoid me." Then, I kept my eyes on his face, willing for him to look back at me. When he did, I didn't blink, didn't move. My face was hard and stern, an expression that showed him I knew something was up.

And then I saw it, his resolve break down... his cold face changed, flickered with insecurity and young reluctance. "You're famous, Elena," he began. "I'm not. And I know how actors get in these situations. And I'm sorry for leading you on at all, but I've had my heart broken before... I can't set myself up for that."

I swallowed thickly. "Set yourself up?" I glared at him now, feeling anger well up inside of me. "I didn't talk to you and smile with you because I wanted a fling, Stefan! Did you ever think for just a second that I enjoyed talking to you, that it made me feel normal?" I wanted him to understand that I wasn't trying to use him for selfish reasons, that he wasn't a toy to me. "When most people see me, they associate me with fame. When we met, you didn't even know who I was... and I liked that. We got to know each other, and you liked me for me. I don't know, it felt good." I inhaled a sharp breath. "I wasn't getting to know you to use you. I'm still not. I just like you. Is that such a bad thing?"

Stefan huffed silently and stared off at something only he could see, his eyes filled with shame. "Girls like you don't go for guys like me."

"Girls like me?"

I watched as he absently drummed his fingertips along his denim clad thighs. "Girls with a perfect life... You have everything. The world at your fingertips." He paused for a second. I knew he was implying that his life wasn't easy, that we were far too different than we were alike.

Stefan's words broke my heart a little bit; I'd seen many sides of him, but this one struck me. At the moment, I didn't view him as a cold, brooding person or a man who oozed leather-clad swagger. He was a layered individual who knew pain, knew heartbreak, and was scared to expose himself to it again. He was a normal person, with normal insecurities. I turned to my side and shook my head. "I don't have everything, Stefan." My eyes met his fathomless pools of green, and I spoke the words without even hesitating. "Something's always been missing."

"And what's that?" he sighed.

I slowly lifted my hand, and wove my fingers through his own. "Ask me later." When I gave Stefan's hand a squeeze, I smiled just a bit. "Because I think I may have found it."

* * *

_**AN: Okay, I know not much happened this chapter and it was kind of slow, but this is the beginning of a Stelena relationship. Yayyyy, lol. I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I'm still contemplating whether I should continue or not, especially after this chapter. Let me know if you'd like to see more.**_

_**Please leave a review letting me know what you thought! Every single comment, good or bad, inspires me so much and absolutely makes my day. What do you think of Stefan and Elena's relationship so far? What would you like to see more of, or what would you like to see in general?**_

_**Thanks! Xoxo**_

_**Sara**_


	5. Chapter 5

"We aren't close," Stefan explained solemnly when I asked him about his relationship with Damon. It was a good thing that the clock was out of our view, because I was almost positive that the hour would've shocked us. The entire city of London was fast asleep, except for Stefan and me. I wasn't even tired, and neither was he. We'd been talking for hours in my suite's living room, and Stefan hadn't moved from his spot against the couch, with his legs sprawled out on the floor and his neck against the seat cushion. "After my parents died, Damon and I got sent to our uncle in Italy. Damon, he didn't stick around for too long. He got shipped off to some boarding school near Florence, and I ran away as soon as I turned fifteen. I took a bus without a clue where it was going." Shaking his head, Stefan laughed at his words, scoffing at his own reckless stupidity, I figured. "Ended up in London, and I've been here since. I actually just got in contact with Damon about six months ago."

"Oh my god." My heart ached for him, and I was sure that my face showed it. I couldn't imagine running away at fifteen, and especially losing contact with my brother. After losing my parents, Jeremy had been the only person that kept me from completely allowing the world to collapse on my shoulders. "I'm so sorry..."

Stefan brushed it off, closing his eyes and resting his head on the cushion. "Don't be," he commented simply, effortlessly, as if he'd had this conversation thousands of times and was no longer affected by his story. "If none of that happened, I wouldn't be right here. And I'm perfectly fine with where I am."

I exhaled deeply, just staring at him for a long moment. Stefan's face was relaxed, with the faintest of smiles curled on his lips. A part of me wanted to trace my fingers across his lips, and make that smile a little wider. The other part refused to move, wanting to tattoo this image forever into my memory. Is this what normal people felt like? Is this what I had been missing out on for so long when I had only been paying attention to Hollywood actors and self-centered artists? For some reason, this memory felt so much sweeter than any celebrity's kiss. It felt... real. I needed a dose of reality... and Stefan was it. Sure, he was barely eighteen, and some signs of teenage youth still lingered in his face, but it would have been a cruel joke to call him a boy. He was a man, more of a man than anyone I knew. He was the exact definition: brave, strong, experienced. "Admirable," I whispered aloud.

"Hmm?" That was when he opened one eye and lifted his eyebrow, tilting his head in my direction.

"Nothing," I chuckled. Cocking my head to the side, I looked into his green eyes intently. "Are you falling asleep on me?"

As he reached into his back pocket for his phone, Stefan smiled at me, that gentle, warm smile that sent shockwaves through my body. "Now wouldn't that be rude?" he inquired. As soon as he opened his phone, he closed his eyes when he got to the home screen, and I gave him a look of confusion, until I realized that he didn't want to see what time it was. I giggled.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting some music," he replied matter-of-factly. "You know Ed Sheeran, right?" Before I could respond, he shook his head cutely. "Everybody knows Ed. Never mind."

I bit my bottom lip. "Who?"

He gave me a look of complete puzzlement, but I only gave him the same lost expression I had ten seconds ago. We stayed like this for an amusing second, until Stefan figured it out; I could see the connection in his eyes as soon as he made it. "It must be a Europe thing, yeah?"

"Guess so." I smiled while he scrolled through an album that only had a + for a title. "It seems like we're from two different worlds," I mused.

Stefan shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. We're both people, right?"

"Guess so," I said, awestruck. His point of view was incredible. Then, I was suddenly captivated by the music coming from Stefan's phone. "He's good. Mellow. I like it."

Stefan grinned at me, and softly began singing along. Well, it wasn't exactly singing, more like melodic speaking. He bobbed his head back and forth too, in a goofy little way that had me laughing and thinking he needed to sleep soon. "She left a note: 'I'll be back in five.' Well, I'm still waiting for that moment to arrive." He tilted his head towards mine a little bit, and my heart picked up a little bit. He knew the words so well, and so freely that I felt like singing along. I knew my smile was huge, and he only averted his gaze to the ground, laughing as well. Our faces were so close. I held back the temptation to rest my head on his shoulder when he kept going, "I was told to put my job in front of you, but it won't hold me like you do."

I smiled in absolute adoration. "I like you, Stefan Salvatore."

Grinning back at me, Stefan nodded. "I like you too, Elena Gilbert."

Every time he said my name, I felt like I wanted to steal it from his lips and hold onto it forever.

Or maybe I just needed sleep. Probably a little bit of both.

* * *

**STEFAN'S POV**

Beep. Beep. BEEP.

"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath. How could my watch alarm already be going off? I felt like I had just fallen asleep ten minutes ago. But then again, maybe I had, considering how long Elena and I had been talking.

Ed Sheeran was still playing on my cell phone, so we couldn't have been asleep for more than a half hour. We? Yes, definitely "we." I could feel Elena's warm, bright presence beside me, could still smell her vanilla shampoo. Her head, some way or another, had ended up on my shoulder and it didn't seem like she was going to wake up any time soon. "Elena," I whispered, giving her a little nudge on the shoulder. No response. Laughing, I nudged her again, speaking up. "Elena."

"Mmmm?" she groaned angrily, burying her head in my shoulder like it was her favorite pillow.

"Elena, it's time for work," I whispered, lightly trying to move her matted bundle of coffee hair away from her face to show her at least a little light. She made a sound that oddly resembled a cat growling, and I bit my lip to keep from chuckling once again. "You have to get up."

Huffing, Elena rolled over so that she was in a sitting position against the couch. I stretched a little bit, realizing with a deep sigh that my muscles were going to be very sore once I stood up. Trying to collect myself, I shuffled to my feet and quickly extended a hand to help her up. "No!" she hissed. She kept her face to the floor. "Don't look at me!"

"Elena, don't be ridiculous," I argued, crossing my arms over my chest. "We haven't even been asleep for an hour. I can assure you that you won't look much different." I sighed, impatiently looking up at the ceiling. "Come on, you look beautiful all of the time. This is insanity."

Bashfully, she lifted her head to look up at me, a little pout formed on her lips, one that I desperately wanted to kiss away. Quickly pushing away my thoughts, I extended my hand once again. "See? Gorgeous." Elena rolled her eyes and stood up without placing her hand in my own. Arching a brow, I wondered if I should have been discouraged by her rejection.

She stepped close to me, a little smirk curling on her lips. "I can do things myself," she teased. I grinned lightly, briefly raising my eyebrows.

"Noted, Miss Gilbert."

"Good."

I'd have to remind myself not to unpleasantly wake her next time. If there was a next time.

"Thank you for last night," I said slowly, changing the topic. "I should probably head back to my apartment, though... to get ready for work."

Elena froze. "No," she said abruptly. There was something in her eyes that told me she simply wanted my company, but she was good at hiding it. I caught it though, and I had to take a deep breath in order to not grin idiotically. This girl had me smitten already. She quickly came up with an excuse. "Alaric and Katherine will see you."

Although we hadn't spoken a word to each other, we had a strange understanding about where we stood when it came to our careers. For our better good, it was obvious that we both needed to hide... whatever it was that we now had. I would bring her bad press and management would kill her for it, and with a film career blooming ahead of me, I wanted to start off with more than the title of "that guy that was seeing a celebrity." Of course, this wasn't the title that I associated myself with... but that was how the public would view it, unfortunately.

"What should I do?" I asked with a deep breath.

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Elena scanned her eyes up and down my body as if she were medically examining it. "I might have something of Alaric's in my suit case," she said busily. "It'll probably be a little big but it should fit. Let me go look." And just like that, she had rushed off into another room to rummage through a suit case.

I slowly ran a hand through my hair. Last night was great, but it would be a complete lie to say that I wasn't still a bit conflicted. I was trying to discover my feelings just as much as she was. If anything, our conversation last night had definitely confirmed the obvious: I was absolutely crazy for Elena Gilbert. But there was still that lingering hesitation, that feeling that I wasn't good enough for her, that I never would be.

There were still so many things that Elena didn't know about me, things that she probably would scoff at or be disgusted by. My past was a painfully dark one, and I wasn't sure exactly how to open up to her. I was trying though, and I hoped that she saw that. There were things I wanted to tell her, things I ached to discuss... but I couldn't will myself to say any of them. She had to know that it would take some time.

With her, though, I found that conversation came easily, and I liked that. I liked how open and understanding her gaze was. No one had looked at me like that in a long, long time. Actually, no one had ever looked at me the way that she did.

My view of Elena had completely changed in one night, that was for sure. Upon hearing about her fame, I was discouraged, disappointed. But last night, between the jokes and flirtatious smiles, we both forgot about who we both were. Maybe, just maybe, this would work. I wanted it to.

I was willing to try if she was.

Within a few minutes, Elena returned with a simple, white button-up in her hand. Her hair was now brushed back into a sleek ponytail and I smiled to myself. I think she looked perfect with or without her messy hair. "Okay, so you can keep those jeans, right?" When I nodded, she kept going. "I found one of Alaric's shirts... it should fit alright. Just give it back to me tomorrow, okay?"

"Thank you," I said slowly, catching the cotton shirt when she threw it at me. Glancing down, I busily began to unbutton my grey shirt until I felt Elena's eyes lingering on me. Slowly bringing my eyes up, I looked at her own, fighting the smirk that was inevitably forming on my lips. "Can I help you?"

Her face turned bright red. "No! No, it's just... want to make sure it fits," she mumbled in response, starting to turn around. I noticed her slight hesitation, and I could have sworn that my face reddened a bit too.

I quickly slid the grey shirt off of my shoulders, though I paid no attention to where it landed on the floor. Daringly, nervously, my gaze was fixated on Elena -who was clearly deciding whether or not to turn around. When I looked away and finally started to pull the white shirt on, she decided to turn in my direction again. I laughed softly at this push-pull game, but quickly realized that Elena was caught up in the pull aspect, for she was not moving. Her lingering gaze on my torso was enough to have my skin rushing with heat and stomach fluttering. "...Elena?" I swallowed.

As if she were snapping out of some trance, Elena jumped. "You're going to button it all the way up, aren't you?" Cautiously, she stepped closer to me. Caught under her spell and my own curiosity, I didn't dare move. I almost flinched when her fingers briefly came in contact with the exposed skin on my stomach as she started buttoning it. It wasn't a flinch from pain though... No. I was started by the electric current that flooded through my body the second we touched. "I noticed that about you," she started again. "At night, you unbutton it. But at work, you're very professional." A part of me wanted to know what had come over her, but the other part knew that it was this strange magnetic energy we had. It drew us together, like two magnets.

"You're very observant," I breathed, reaching into my back pocket for the lenseless glasses that I always wore.

"Why do you wear those?" she questioned. That was when I realized she was just as nervous as I was, waiting for me to step away. The scary thing, though, was that I couldn't.

"Makes me feel smart, I guess," I answered quickly, never tearing my gaze from her own. Her eyes, they were so brown, like melting chocolate. When Elena reached for my glasses, I almost stopped breathing. This was a dangerous game we were playing, but we were far too caught up in this tantalizing tension to stop. As she slipped them on, I smiled a little bit, unable to help myself.

Elena's fingers lingered on the side of my face, sending chills through my spine. Never, had I expected to feel something this intense for another person. It wasn't lust... it was something more, something indescribable.

Finally, when I stopped staring into her eyes, I looked at her lips. Her soft, inviting lips. What would it be like to steal a kiss from them? Would she let me?

I never got my question answered though, for our moment quickly ended from a knock at the door. "Elena!" Katherine's sharp voice cut through my mind and brought me back to sanity. Quickly, as if I'd been shocked, I stepped away. "The car is up front! Are you almost ready?"

Still staring at me -and looking just as confused- Elena took a few deep breaths. "Yeah, Kat. Give me a few minutes." With that, she slowly, languidly walked closer to her room. She lowered her voice. "You can leave a few minutes after I do, okay?"

I was unable to do anything but nod as Elena rushed to the door, still wearing the exact same outfit as last night. But right before she walk out, she hesitated at the exit. Turning around briefly, she glanced in my direction. "See you at work?" she whispered.

"Yeah," I agreed. "See you at work."

As soon as the door closed behind her, the biggest smile came across my face.  
I had absolutely no idea what had just come over us, but I was sure of one thing.

Already, we were both hooked on each other.

* * *

_**AN: Yayyy, finally some Stelena! You guys wanted another chapter, so here it is! I hope you liked it. Please let me know. Also, should I keep writing scenes in Stefan's POV? I got some requests, so I decided to try it? Should I keep doing it, or just have this story in Elena's perspective?**_

_**If you guys want another update, I will write it for you :) Please give me your feedback. What you liked, what you didn't, what you want to see, etc.**_

_**Do you think Elena would have let Stefan kiss her? ;) And what do you think Stefan is scared to tell her? (No, he isn't a vampire, lol. This is a human fic, don't worry!)**_

**_Thanks :) Xoxo_**

**_(Song credit: UNI by Ed Sheeran)_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**ELENA'S POV**_

It's kind of funny. You'd think that I would have been absolutely miserable running on only about forty-five minutes of sleep, but I couldn't have been happier if I tried. I was seriously fighting back the urge to youtube search another Ed Sheeran song that Stefan liked and dance around my dressing room while attempting to pull my costume on. Much to my dismay, I couldn't do that though, because Katherine was there and she was staring at me with interrogating curiosity. It was hard to not smile, and being an actress was a definite benefit at the moment. I was giddy, and it wasn't from lack of sleep.

I was giddy because Stefan Salvatore had already flipped my world upside-down by merely glancing at my lips.

Yes, I had caught it: the longing, brooding look in his fathomless, blue-green eyes when we were standing inches apart in my hotel suite. Was he going to kiss me? Something deep in the pit of my stomach told me that the answer was a definite yes. I wondered what it would be like, having his lips on mine. Would it mean something to him? Was he a good kisser?

I scoffed at my own question. Of course he was!

"What has you in such a good mood?" Katherine questioned, crossing her arms across her chest. She was carelessly leaning against the door frame, her perfectly waxed eyebrow raised. We were dressed in the same leather pants and camisole; I guessed that we were doing a stunt scene today. That was probably something that I had been told, but with all of these strange feelings for Stefan arising, my work had not become a priority.

Maybe that wasn't a good thing, but I really didn't care.

I giggled, playing with the end of my camisole. "Nothing," I said. "Can't I just be in a good mood?"

Taken aback, Katherine frowned. "For as long as I can remember, work has never put you 'in a good mood.' You complain far too much," she started with a playful smirk. I laughed in spite of myself, and that only seemed to freak her out more. "Besides, I thought you'd be a little freaked today."

I was confused. "Why?"

Katherine uncrossed her arms and examined her manicured nails. "Haven't you heard? Another man was killed last night; same thing that killed the woman you saw. He was walking in a parking lot alone, apparently. His body was drained of blood and his throat was torn open." Despite her initial worry, I could see the interest in Katherine's eyes. She had always been more daring than I, more interested in mysteries. I was fine with staying away from problems, but Kat... she was the type to go in unarmed and put a stop to them. "Creepy, right?"

Swallowing thickly, feeling an ominous shudder go through my body, I nodded. "Yeah."

...

Considering how out of it that I was, with my mixture of giddy excitement, sleep deprivation, fear, and attempted concentration, work went fairly well. The scene shoot passed in what felt like a big blur, and I could only pray that the lines that had escaped my lips were legible.

The only thing that I could really remember was watching Stefan give the director something to sign between takes, and then nearly falling asleep while he waited for him to finish writing the signature. I had to stifle my laughter just thinking about it hours later now.

And it was when I least expected it, when I was quickly packing my things away in my bag when I felt his alluring presence suddenly envelop the room. Holding my breath, I closed my eyes, gripping my bag, almost imagining him approaching me, running his hands sensually along my back until his arms had encircled my waist. I would rest my head on his shoulder while he pulled the hair away from my neck and whispered dark, velvet words into my ear. We would get completely lost in that strange but wonderful feeling that had overcome us both hours ago in my hotel room.

I wanted him, needed his wholesome presence like a dying man needs acceptance, like a fish needs water. And I hoped the feeling was mutual.

When I opened my eyes, I was snapped out of my fantasy by the image of Stefan struggling with two cups of coffee in each hand. It wasn't exactly what I had imagined our encounter to be like, but I grinned and rushed over to help him. He was adorable, carrying those cups like his life depended on it. "Don't let them spill," he muttered quietly while I grabbed one from each hand and placed them on the table for him.

Laughing, I replied, "I'll try not to."

"Thanks." Stefan grinned and placed the rest of the paper cups on the table, except for one. Raising it a bit, he passed it to me with a little nod of the head. "Delivery for Miss Gilbert. Green tea with one pack of sugar and a drop of honey."

"Thank you!" I said, pleasantly surprised that he knew exactly what I wanted. Furrowing my brows, I started, "I didn't ask for anything though."

"I know," Stefan answered shyly, nibbling on his bottom lip and averting his gaze. "It gave me an excuse to come in here. I just wanted to thank you again... for inviting me to your lovely suite." My heart picked up speed a little bit, and I nearly felt like it was going to run away. Right before I could tell him he didn't have to thank me, he continued, "I'd also like to apologize... for not leaving."

We both chuckled, and I shook my head in protest. "Don't... I'm glad you did. I mean, I'm glad you didn't. Leave, that is..." Oh, no. I was babbling. He looked into my eyes again, momentarily stunning me and taking my breath away. His eyes were so green. I wanted to fall into them and never crash. "I like your company, Stefan." That was my attempt at recovering, and it seemed to work.

"I like your company as well." I swallowed thickly as I watched him hesitantly glance at each door before turning back to me. Exhaling deeply, he gazed into my eyes as he spoke. "You should probably go back to your hotel and take a nap after you get out of here, but maybe if you're feeling better tonight... I mean... if you'd like... I could...," he stumbled over a few words, laughing nervously at himself. I tried to speak, but the words were caught in my throat. "Would you like to meet with me later tonight after I finish my shift at the pub? I could show you a little bit of London."

Everything froze for a second. Did that really just happen? "Yes!" I exclaimed. Internally, I cringed at my shrill voice. I took a quick breath and corrected myself. "I mean, I'd be honored. I'd love to."

Stefan bit on his bottom lip and glanced down, an attempt to hide the huge smile forming on his lips. The smile that I had put there! "Okay. Yeah. Great," he started. "I'll meet you outside of the pub at nina o'clock?"

"Nine o'clock," I confirmed, reminding myself to breathe.

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

8:44 pm. One more minute until my shift would end. I had no idea how many times I'd checked my watch in the past minute, but I was starting to wonder if it was broken. The bloody clock was not moving quickly enough, and it hadn't been for the past hour. Usually I was able to concentrate on filling a mug of ale as close to the brim as I could, and was able to completely shut out the annoying thoughts that constantly crept into my mind. It had become a little game of mine; I'd fill the cup up and slide it to the customer without trying to spill any, and then I'd count how many times I could do it in a row. My record was 27.

Tonight though, I wasn't even counting, filling the mugs and sliding them across the table in a perfunctory manner. I had probably beaten my record, but I didn't even care. I didn't care about anything except for a specific brown-eyed girl with a smooth laugh and beautiful smile. A specific dark haired girl who had completely flipped my world around in twenty four hours.

She was so beautiful. Elena.

I practically ran out as soon as my watch turned to 8:45. Much to my dismay, I was stopped by Caroline before I could leave the counter. She grabbed my arm, arching a brow in amusement. "What has you so excited?" she questioned.

"Can I explain later?" I practically begged, feeling more like a teenager than I did when I was sixteen. "I need to be somewhere."

Eyes widening, Caroline's face brightened up in realization. "You're going on a date, aren't you?" When I didn't reply, she giggled loudly and playfully punched my arm. I rolled my eyes, but it was obvious that I wasn't mad. It was impossible to get mad at Caroline. "It's about time, Stef! I'm happy for ya!"

"Okay, I really have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

Grinning like a proud mother, Caroline nodded. I rushed past the counter when she suddenly raised a toast. "'Ey, everyone! Stefan's finally gettin' a girlfriend! You go get 'em!" When all of the familiar customers cheered and raised their mugs, I felt the heat rushing to my face, and I sent her a sharp glare. She seemed to be genuinely amused at my embarrassment. "Be careful, though. There's a murderer out there!"

Quickly making my way to the back of the kitchen, I walked to the little door that was next to the stove and opened the door. I trudged up a steep, short staircase until I got to a little hallway that held three apartments. The one on the far left was vacant, the one in the middle belonged to Caroline, and the one on the right... well, it was mine.

I didn't mind living above the pub, really. It gave me a place to sleep and the monthly rent was cheap; Caroline didn't charge me much. If there wasn't a vacant room, she probably wouldn't have charged me anything, but she always told me that if I slept there for free, some disgusting old man would want to as well. Oh, Caroline... I was definitely lucky to have found her when I did. Her bright, cheery attitude was exactly what I needed. She helped me through a lot, and I had helped her, too. There was never a day that I wasn't thankful for my only friend in the big, noisy city. I just prayed that she wouldn't try and give me girl advice...

Speaking of which, I had a date to prepare for!

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

When I arrived at the pub, Stefan was already waiting outside for me. From afar, I scanned my eyes over his body, quickly and a little shamefully. I never expected to be one of those girls, but I couldn't help myself. He was so perfectly built; it almost felt like a sin not to stare. He wasn't wearing his leather jacket tonight, and I decided that he looked even better without it. He was... sexy, clad in a form-fitting, burgundy v-neck and denim jeans.

Finally, once I got over my initial ogling, I approached him with a deep, hopeful sigh. "Hey," I breathed. I suddenly felt self conscious standing in front of him. He was so handsome, so... perfect. Clearly, he'd met beautiful women before. How did I compare?

Stefan turned to look at me, and I saw his breath catch. Like usual, my heart fluttered. My previous worries were completely washed away in an instant; I felt beautiful. "Hi." Slowly, he lifted my hand and kissed the back of my palm. I giggled at his courtesy. "I hope you got to catch up on your sleep?"

"Yes," I lied. "I just woke up about an hour ago. You can keep me for as long as you want. I won't be sleeping for a long while." I wanted to take those words back as soon as I said them. Did that failed attempt at a flirt make me sound trashy? Oh, no... I didn't want him to think that I was like that.

Probably to be polite, Stefan laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Would you like to see the city?"

"Please," I said, exasperated.

And then I felt a strange nudge beneath my palm, an unfamiliar warmth that already had caused them to start sweating. I nearly fell over when I realized that the nudge I was feeling was Stefan's hand hesitantly grabbing mine. I didn't move; I let him take my hand. And it felt wonderful.

"Follow me," he grinned. So, I did.

We walked for a short while, talking about everything and nothing, and I honestly had no idea how long we'd been out together. Stefan gave me a little historical tour of some of the old stores and I was captivated by his knowledge- or maybe it was his deep, smooth Italian-American-British voice. Either way, I decided I could listen to him for an eternity without getting bored. He even took me inside of a tiny flower shop, where he bought me a blooming, white daisy. "Allow me," Stefan had said after purchasing the flower. He then took a step closer. I could vividly remember the masculine scent of whatever soap he used evading my senses. Then, he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and, with a touch so gentle I could hardly feel it, he set it right above my ear. Although the brush of his fingers was light and brief, my skin still tingled.

In that moment, it was clear to me -if it wasn't before- that it didn't matter who we were. No, it didn't matter at all if he was an intern without much money to spend (which he had just gone out of his way to do for me, by the way). It didn't matter that I was a celebrity; fame was just a title. Everything that society had labeled us as was irrelevant when I was with Stefan. He made me feel happy. That was all that mattered.

Now, we were slowly making our way across Westminster Bridge. It was a long walk, but for some inexplainable reason, I never wanted it to end. "Oh, by the way," Stefan mused, "a few minutes ago, we passed the Big Ben. You can still see it back there." He turned and pointed.

"The clock," I remembered, looking through the old buildings until I saw it.

"Yes," Stefan confirmed. We began to walk again, setting an easy, relaxed pace.

"Actually, the clock is just called a clock. Most people think Big Ben is the clock itself, but it's just the building."

Arching an eyebrow, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you sure?"

"Yup," he answered, making me laugh. As soon as the light giggle escaped my lips, that signature gentle grin curled on his own. He looked at me. "What?"

"Nothing," I chuckled again. I turned my attention to the cars coming in our direction, their bright headlights briefly clouding my vision. When I blinked and faced Stefan again, the yellow light remained engrained into my eyelids and it almost looked like he was glowing. "I'm just happy. I like being happy."

Although he originally smiled at my words, Stefan's grin faded a bit. "You sound like you're not used to being happy."

His words were achingly true. "Are you?" I asked, but from the distant look that instantly hazed over in his green eyes, I already knew the answer. I guess that was something we had in common. "My parents died a little over a year ago," I started, deciding to open up a little. I didn't know why, but I trusted him and longed for his acceptance, his empathy. "It's not something I've gotten over. I don't think it's something anyone can really ever get over, you know?"

Nodding solemnly in agreement, Stefan sighed. "It's something that stays with you."

"It is." I smiled halfheartedly. He understood me, and that feeling was one that I would never forget. For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel so... lost. "Anyways, I kind of buried myself in work after that. I got my big break, and all of the acting jobs... they helped numb the pain. I didn't have time to stop and think about anything I had lost in the past. I was always moving forward, and that was how I coped. There was always a part of me that was empty though, and all of the glory couldn't change it. I've just started to realize that fame isn't as fun as it once seemed."

We walked in silence for a few moments while Stefan took in every word and hung onto them. Finally, he looked at me with a sad but hopeful gaze. "You won't be sad forever, Elena."

Smiling softly, I nodded. "I know." How did he do that? How did he say the few words that momentarily put my heart to rest? "Thank you, Stefan."

I tangled our fingers together. In response to my words, Stefan gave my hand a light squeeze. "You're a strong, determined girl, Elena. Your parents would be proud of you if they could see you now."

Tears welled up in my eyes with every word. I was suddenly very thankful for his hand in my own, for it seemed to be the only thing that was holding me up. It had been a while since I'd let myself think about my parents; it was a sore topic, but for some reason, I was willing to tell Stefan about it. I wanted him to know. "You think?"

"Of course," he chimed. "You followed your dreams. You're a role model to so many young girls, I'm sure. You're mature, smart... you are beautiful. And I don't just mean externally. Though I can't be one to judge since I haven't known you for very long... I can promise that you are the epitome of inner beauty. To me, at least." We stopped walking and I fought back the urge to just wrap my arms around him and hold him tight.

Quickly, I tried to wipe the tear from my eye before it would fall. "You obviously don't know me very well, then."

"Hey." Untangling our fingers, Stefan grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me so that I was facing him. My hand fell to my side and I stared up at him, unsure. He gradually lifted his hand and cupped the side of my face; I leaned into his touch without even having to think about it. It was like my body knew him before my mind even did. When his thumb ever so gently grazed across my cheekbone, I closed my eyes in a mixture of pleasure and despair. "I know you well enough," he whispered.

And there it was; all of the despair, suddenly going away. Vanishing. This man, Stefan Salvatore... he knew me better than anyone. No, he didn't know when my birthday was or what my earliest memories were, but he got me. He understood me. It was something that sent a wave of warmth through my body, head to toe. Acting on instinct, I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly, just reveling in the feel of his body against mine. He was comfort in its rawest form, like my own personal dose of morphine. "How did you cope with the death of your parents?" I finally asked into the crook of his neck.

Stefan pulled away with a regretful half smile. "Not as well as you. But why don't we save that story for our next date? I promised myself I'd give you a good time."

Although he already had given me a good time and more, I smiled brightly and nodded. That was enough sadness for one night, enough tears and enough grief. But more than anything, I was suddenly filled with a strange sense of comfort and relaxation. And now I couldn't stop grinning to myself. I'd really found someone special.

Maybe Stefan Salvatore and I had met by chance of fate. Maybe we were supposed to bring each other back to life.

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

After we got off of the bridge and I showed Elena the County Hall, I noticed that her eyes were starting to get a little heavier. It had to be well past midnight and she must have been exhausted, but every time I offered to walk her back to her hotel, she shook her head stubbornly and said no, that she would be able to last a few more minutes.

"Why don't I take you up on the London Eye, then we'll call it a night?" I offered. Although she rolled her eyes and whined in protest, Elena agreed. I laughed at her response; even when she was annoyed, she was beautiful. Every single time I looked at her, every glance, and every word she spoke... the word "beautiful" came to mind. I needed to find some new adjectives.

But it did seem to describe her very well.

I definitely was not lying when I told her that she was the epitome of beauty. If only she could see it, too.

The London Eye, the big ferris wheel that gave a spectacular view of the city, was not far away and there was practically no line. I led Elena to the entrance, paid for tickets with the fifty pounds that I had saved for a special occasion like this, and soon we were riding in our own capsule. I didn't think that she understood just how spectacular this was; usually, getting a private capsule was more than triple the original price. It was huge. Usually, each one held about twenty-five people, but tonight, it was just us. It was a good thing that we got there just before the closing time.

"You didn't have to buy my ticket," Elena said after a comfortable silence, turning her attention away from the windows for a brief second. She leaned against them, grinning softly.

"Don't worry about that," I promised. "I've had money saved up for a special night like this one."

Clearly charmed, Elena bashfully glanced at me before facing the window again. "I don't know if I'm special enough," she teased. Raising an eyebrow and not missing a beat to be playful, I chuckled.

I took a step closer. "And what makes you think you're not special?" I pondered. Giggling to herself, Elena placed her hand against the glass and stared out at the view of the city. Feeling my heart suddenly stop, I let my gaze linger on her hand for longer than it should have before taking yet another step. We were so close now; I was sure she could hear my unsteady breathing.

"There are so many pretty girls in London," she murmured. I had to steady myself when she leaned against my chest. I knew that she could feel my heart racing against her slender back. There was no way that she couldn't. Her action, so simple and profound, had definitely caught me off guard, and I think she enjoyed knowing that.

"Maybe," I whispered, grinning. I raised my own hand and boldly placed it over hers, which was still against the glass. Curling my fingers into the spaces between hers, I could hear her little exhale. This felt so right, so perfect... and I happily let myself get lost in this strange chemistry that always kept us coming back to each other. "There are also many handsome boys in Hollywood."

"True," she breathed, her attention also on our hands against the window. "But Hollywood is very far away, Stefan..."

She rested her temple against the side of my cheek languidly. I could feel this strange but wonderful energy buzzing between us, and I never wanted this connection to fade. What it was exactly, we didn't know. But right now, we didn't care. It felt too good. Questions weren't necessary. "Plus, those boys don't quite get me."

"Really?" Chuckling, I turned my head so my lips were closer to her ear. This confidence that suddenly fueled by body was refreshing; with Elena, I wasn't afraid of anything. "There's also one problem with the other girls here in London," I whispered.

"What's that?" she said dazedly.

Without even having time to process the words, they escaped my lips in a smooth manner. I briefly kissed her cheek, and then responded by saying, "They aren't you."

And that was that. Somehow, between a gentle caress of the hand and a light, sensual peck on the cheek, she had turned her head so that I was no longer kissing the side of the face. We didn't really know -or care about- how it happened or who even made the first move, but somehow, my lips were suddenly against Elena's and everything just felt a whole lot sweeter.

* * *

**_A/N: Yayyy, they kissed! I hope you guys liked the chapter (even though it was mostly fluff!). I had lots of fun writing this because honestly, who doesn't love writing SE dates? Haha! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter! Love it? Hate it? What do you want to see more of?_**

**_Also, please let me know once again what you're thinking of Stefan's POV. There is a poll on my profile about it, so if you'd like to participate and answer the question, it would mean a lot and help me out :)_**

**_I hope I'm keeping Stefan and Elena in character. It's always hard for AU stories, since they are basically different people with different lives, but I still want to be able to grasp the beauty that is Stefan and Elena. So let me know._**

**_Thank you so much! Reviews are greatly appreciated and each one means the world to me :) As long as you want another chapter, I will write it!_**

**_Xoxo_**

**_Sara :D_**


	7. Chapter 7

ELENA'S POV

I wanted to kiss him like this forever. Stefan's lips were everything I thought they'd be: soft, inviting, addicting... and no matter how badly I wanted to take this a little further, he kept a steady, gentle pressure that I never wanted to forget. The feelings rushing through me were indescribable, perfect... it felt like my entire body was alit by some sort of golden fire that made my heart race and had my skin tingling.

Slowly, I lifted my hand up to the side of his face, feeling heated skin against my fingertips. When I felt his own fingers brush against my cheek, I knew he was probably feeling the same thing. Hot skin. Sweaty palms. A passion so sweet and so tender that breathing no longer felt like a necessity. Maybe, just maybe, if I kissed him long enough, my body would realize that he's all the oxygen I need.

Despite my wishes, after a few priceless moments, my lungs started to ache, forcing us both to pull away, our breaths sharp and short. Briefly, Stefan, with his eyes still closed, captured my bottom lip between his in a slow but chaste kiss that left me frozen. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered, "You're... missing the view."

I laughed lightly, opening my eyes barely before closing them again. The tip of my nose was just brushing against his. "I have quite a view right here," I argued softly. Nothing mattered. Except for the fact that he had kissed me, so sensually, with both a bruising and delicate passion at the same time. "I want to kiss you until this is over and security forces us out."

Stefan chuckled; I could feel it against my lips. I didn't care how forward my words had been. I knew he felt the same. "I could have kissed you on the ground," he said gently. "You should enjoy the view that London has to offer."

"True," I agreed. "But the ferris wheel thing... quite romantic, I must admit. It adds to the effect. Besides, I'd much rather stand here like this. With you." It probably sounded ridiculous and cheesy and cliche, but it was true. So true. Spending a second of this -very private- ride without Stefan's lips on mine would have felt useless.

"How about this?" Stefan whispered, stepping away. My heart instantly dropped from the loss of contact, and I grudgingly turned out to look at the view of London. Westminster Bridge was lit up, along with the entire city. There was a gorgeous sea of reds, blues, and yellows beneath us as we rose above London. Stefan was right- it was beautiful, but it didn't completely have my attention. Suddenly, I felt Stefan's strong arms wrap around my waist, earning him a soft gasp from me in response. Leaning into his embrace, I continued to stare out of the capsule in awe, pretending to be mesmerized by the lights, when in reality, his touch was all that I could think about. I couldn't let him know this though, couldn't admit that after one late-night date, he already had a firm grip on my heart. "Is this alright?"

"Perfect," I breathed. "Perfect."

And it was.

* * *

STEFAN'S POV

As soon as I got back to the pub and raced through the bar, perfunctorily saying "hello" to the late-night drinkers who had become very good customers, I ran up the stairs to get into my apartment. Stop smiling, you idiot, I kept telling myself, knowing I must have looked so stupid. The problem, though, was that I couldn't. Then again, it wasn't really a problem, was it? It was more of a shock.

I was happy. Stefan Salvatore was happy! Who would've thought that it was possible?

And this was a real, genuine elation, not the forced, hazy euphoria that had sometimes been -unnaturally- brought to me in the past. I was still trying to get over... that part of my life... and maybe, just maybe, Elena would be the one to do that. Maybe she'd be the person to take my mind off of those lingering, dark thoughts. Maybe I'd really met someone special a few nights ago in Caroline's pub, someone who I could see myself with for a long time.

I scoffed at the thought. Okay, I was getting a little too ahead of myself. I was definitely taking Elena on a second date though, and if that went well, a third, and...

I really was acting like a fool. But, hey, that was okay.

What could I say? I was absolutely smitten by this girl.

"You're smiling!" Caroline's high-pitched voice brought me back into reality, startling me. "Must have been quite the date, eh?"

This was exactly what I was trying to avoid: "girl talk" with Caroline. Turning the key to get into my apartment, I politely opened the door for her, though I rolled my eyes. Grinning smugly, Caroline strolled in. "You could say that," I finally confessed.

"Who was she?" she inquired nosily.

"Just some girl from work."

She teasingly arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "Fancy. Why didn't you bring her back here?" She playfully winked and fell back on my dusty couch, making me chuckle.

"One: It's not like that," I said honestly. What Elena and I had... it was real, it was emotional. Physical? Well, yes, there was chemistry. But our relationship had not been built off of lust, and I intended to keep it that way. "And two: I think she'd be entirely turned off if she stepped foot in this place."

Caroline playfully huffed. "No offense, right?"

Laughing lightly, I took a seat beside her. "She's staying at the Haymarket."

"Oh." Her face flooded with understanding at my mention of the five-star hotel. "Well, she's obviously doing something right, or you are. Your laughter is starting to creep me out. What happened that put you in this freaky mood?"

I smiled. "Nothing."

She looked me over intently, smirking just a bit. "You snogged her?"

I was shocked. "Kissed her. I kissed her. How did you know that?"

"Ah, same thing." Her blonde curls bounced joyously as she dramatically clapped her hands together. "Oh my lord, Stefan! Look at you." Giggling, she nudged me and I felt my cheeks redden a bit. Leave it to Caroline to make such a big deal out of my love life. "How'd you do it?"

I breathed out heavily in aggravation. "You're really making me go over every detail?" She nodded eagerly. So, painfully, I went over every detail I could without making my cheeks get hot again. When she was pleased, I laughed at her and went over to my tiny sink to get a glass of water, suddenly feeling tired.

Caroline followed me, giving a few teasing comments about how I was a "hopeless romantic," until her mood drastically changed when her gaze fell on an orange prescription pill bottle that sat in the corner of the counter. When she grabbed it, I knew I was in trouble. "You haven't been taking these," she stated flatly. "It's nearly full."

I shrugged my shoulders in a nonchalant manner. "I don't need them anymore, Care."

She glared at me. "Yes. You do. Don't be an idiot."

Groaning, I grabbed the bottle and opened it, like a child being nagged by their mother. I really didn't need the dreadful pills anymore. I felt fine, more than fine. "Doctor Cheshire told me that I probably won't need them anymore. And he's right. I'm better."

Her eyes were filled with anger and sadness. "Stefan," she chided. "You'll never be 'better.' Please. At least finish the bottle. When you're done with those, I won't bother you to get a new prescription. It'd make me feel better though."

Exhaling deeply, I took the tablet out and swallowed it. Caroline smiled in gratitude. As much as I disliked her nagging sometimes, I had to admit, it was nice to know that she cared enough to do it.

* * *

ELENA'S POV

I was excited for work. For the first time in a long time, I was actually excited to start working today! I would see him again. Stefan.

Somehow, imagining Stefan's shining face made the day seem more bearable. I couldn't get him out of my mind, and I didn't want to. Our date last night was wonderful, flawless, and I was starting to wonder how a relationship like ours could exist. Honestly, it felt magical. How could two people feel something so magnetic, so intense... after one date?

The clock read nine am. I was called in at ten, so I was sitting in the studio's little "lounge" with Katherine, Damon, and Alaric (who was reading a celebrity magazine). There was an awkward silence filling the room for a little while, the space filled with monotonous small talk about the weather or the film. It was clear that all of us were still half asleep.

But as soon as Stefan walked in, I was suddenly awake. "Stefan, hey." I smiled warmly and he grinned right back with that secretive, telling gaze he had that I knew was only for me. I knew our eyes were locked for a moment too long, but it was difficult to look away. I just hoped that no one noticed.

"Hi," he said simply. "How is everyone?"

Everyone responded with a simple "good" or "fine," except for Alaric, who was furrowing his brows at his magazine. "Ignore Ric," Katherine started. "He loves those magazines. Guilty pleasure thing I guess."

He laughed. God, I loved the way it sounded. "No, actually...," Alaric began slowly, in that tone that terrified me. He always spoke slowly and in a low tone right before I got in trouble. "This article. Take a look, Elena."

Hesitantly, I grabbed the magazine from Alaric, afraid to read the article that would obviously be about me. When I looked down though, it was a photo, a blurry picture that was clearly taken from a camera on zoom. My heart dropped. The caption read, "Who is Elena Gilbert's mystery man?" It was a photo of me, smiling up at a guy whose back was only in view. I was grinning, and we were way too close, considering the fact that we were in a huge ferris wheel capsule...

Oh my god. Stefan. The "mystery man" in the photo was Stefan! And here I had thought that by going out later, no one would recognize me...

"Who is that, Elena?" Ric prodded, making me swallow thickly, I looked over to Stefan for help, who was casually walking over as if he just wanted a glance.

"That could have been anything," Stefan answered. "Maybe she was just walking past the guy to get a different view and the person with the camera got a decent shot. That's what the paparazzi do, isn't it? They get the right pictures at the right moment."

Damon nodded. "He has a point, Ric."

I had to stifle my sigh of relief. Stefan Salvatore was a genius! "He's right," I nodded. "I didn't even know him. Just friendly banter, you know. He was a fan, so he was being a little forward with me. I was polite, though."

Alaric nodded, seemingly more relaxed.

Katherine smirked, taking a glance at the page. "His hair. Gosh, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that was Stefan!"

Everyone in the room laughed, including Stefan, though it was a bit forced. I made myself to laugh too. We'd have to be more careful from now on.

Aching to change the subject, I quickly flipped the page. "Hey, look," I began, amused. "They have a poll here. 'Who's the murderer?' It's pretty split. 50 percent say it's an animal, 50 percent say it's a person."

"It's got to be an animal. You've seen the photos," Damon explained. "No person can make a mark like that."

"I think it's someone who's very handy with a knife," Katherine said. "I mean, they'd obviously want it to look like an animal, right? There are no bears in London."

I shivered. I hated this topic. Why did I have to bring it up? Every single time this "murderer" was mentioned, I got a terrible feeling, one that turned my veins to ice.

Alaric was the one to speak up next. "A person wouldn't drain all of the blood like that."

When Stefan put in his idea, the entire room fell silent. And that ominous feeling I got was magnified. My heart stopped and my head spun with his every word.

"What if it's not a person or an animal?"

* * *

_**AN: Yay, an update! Sorry it took a while. I know it's not as good as last chapter (writer's block is a pain!) but I wanted to get something up for y'all. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. A lot was revealed in this chapter, so please let me know what you're thinking.**_

_**What kind of medication is Stefan taking? Who or what do you think the murderer is? And what would you like to see? **__**Next chapter, you'll definitely see Stefan and Elena beginning to be much more secretive with their relationship. Hopefully it'll be enjoyable to read.**_

_**Please leave a review. Your feedback means the world to me, good or bad! :) It inspires me so much. As long as you want to keep reading this, I will write it!**_

_**Thanks! Xoxo :D**_

_**Sara **_


	8. Chapter 8

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

Being an intern was difficult. Sometimes, working without getting paid led to lack of motivation, which led to dread, which would eventually turn to hatred. Luckily though, I had motivation for waking up every morning, and her name was Elena Gilbert. With her bright presence lighting up the whole place, there was no way that work could ever be anything less than exceptional.

Our date last night was incredible; I was still trying to get over the lingering effects of our kiss on the ferris wheel. Even now, I had the trembling desire to pull her close and get lost in her strawberry lips once again, to get lost in the sweet scent of vanilla shampoo that I now associated with her, get lost in... everything Elena. It was so easy.

I couldn't do that now though, I reminded myself. I had copies to make. Sighing heavily and fumbling with the script in my hand, I rushed to make sure it was in the right order. When I realized they were, I grinned pleasantly and turned to the copy machine, when a thin body collided into mine and the papers went flying...

"Damn it!" Katherine groaned to herself, kneeling on the ground. "I'm so sorry about that..." She looked up at me, biting her lip -a little playfully- as if I was about to scold her. If I didn't know that she probably disliked me, I would have mistaken it for flirtation.

"Don't worry about it," I replied simply. I pulled the papers together and took a seat on the carpeted floor, breathing out. "I'll just put them back in order." When Katherine took a seat beside me, I internally sighed in exasperation. She was one of Elena's closest family members, and to be honest, that made me nervous; trying to impress her felt like an impossible, intimidating task. Shakily, I started, "You don't have to-"

"Nope, it was my fault." Katherine gave me a little side smirk, collecting half of the papers in her hands. "I insist." I grinned kindly and grabbed the other half.

"Don't they need you right now for filming?" I asked.

Shaking her head, Katherine said, "They're still setting everything up." There was a bit of an awkward pause as we shuffled through papers, trading them in tense silence. Finally, she leaned on one side and arched an eyebrow. That expression made it perfectly clear that she had something to say. Please don't let it be about Elena, I thought to myself. I held my breath, expecting the worst. "What did you mean this morning, about the murderer?"

Oh. Okay. I put my attention back to the papers, shrugging. "I'm just saying. How would an animal know to aim for the neck every single time? And what person is capable of draining another human of blood? Something just seems off, if you ask me," I explained.

"Maybe," Katherine began, a little amused, "it's a Twilight fan with a vampire fetish?"

I couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped my lips, and I instantly regretted it, fearing that they had started filming and I had ruined a take. "Yeah, maybe." Nibbling on my bottom lip, I pondered over it for a long second. "Maybe vampires are real. I mean, all of those stories you hear when you're a little kid... they have to come from somewhere, right?"

Katherine nodded, lost in thought for a moment. "Well, if you try and figure this out yourself... I want in." Her eyes glimmered in excitement.

* * *

The sun was setting after a long day. I stared out of the staff room window, relishing in the sight of the pink sky as Alaric gave Elena his usual feedback. The sun hardly ever came out here in London, and when it did, it was quite the event. Also, looking out the window allowed me to keep my eyes from falling on Elena's. I knew that if our eyes met, I'd have a very difficult time breaking the gaze.

"You have that party tonight to promote the movie," Alaric said in a serious tone. "They said it's not necessary, but you can bring someone if you'd like."

I heard the door swing open, followed by Damon's smooth voice. "What if she takes Stefan?" At the mention of my name, I turned around in confusion.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Alaric winced. "Why would she take Stefan?" I chuckled at the fact that I was just about to ask the same thing.

"Well, he should see what these promotion parties are like. He wants a career in film, so the more experience, the better," Damon replied nonchalantly. He raised an eyebrow and glanced over at me. "You'd want to go, right, Brother?"

"Sure," I agreed, still trying to get used to hearing Damon call me 'brother' again. "If Miss Gilbert doesn't mind..." I finally turned my attention to her and smiled a bit; to anyone else, they'd view it as nothing more than a kind gesture, but she knew. Of course she knew; the slight upturn of her lips was enough indication.

I knew her answer before she even opened her mouth. "I don't mind," she nodded, her grin getting a little bit wider. I felt my stomach flutter a bit. God, she was so beautiful. And her accent, her extremely-American accent... I loved it. "I can show you the ropes a little bit."

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

We were finally alone. I honestly had no clue how he had done it, but Stefan had talked Ric into letting him drive me to the party. Stefan promised that he was a careful driver and would easily be able to find the place; he knew London like the back of his hand. Plus, he said it would be a waste of gas for him to drive there in his car and also have my driver take me. After a few heavy sighs, Alaric agreed, completely oblivious to the fact that Stefan terribly wanted to get me alone, even just for a few minutes.

Stefan was insanely good at covering our relationship up. In front of everyone, he asked me if I wanted a cup of tea before we left, as if he still viewed me as the authority. When I politely said no, he continued to ask me questions about the film industry, pretending to nervously toy with his glasses. I was convinced that no one in their right mind would expect that anything was happening between us: the spoiled actress and the quiet intern.

As soon as we were a good distance away from the studio, I turned to look at Stefan, who was calmly driving with one hand on the wheel, while the other limply rested on the gear shift. He seemed to be lost in thought, staring ahead at the road while he drove at a steady speed. He had a gorgeous, handsome face with high, sculpted cheekbones and a full, dominating mouth. His lips began to slowly curve into a slow smile, though he did not turn his attention off of the road. "Yes?" he questioned playfully in response to my ogling.

"Hello," I giggled, leaning forward to pull his glasses off; I didn't want any part of his face to be covered up. He briefly crinkled his nose and shut his eyes as I yanked the hipster glasses off. I chuckled at the adorable face he was making. Smirking, I began to tease him. "Mister intern, I was wondering if you could get me a soy latte once we stop. With one Splenda and French Roast espresso beans. It has to be exactly ninety-five degrees with-"

Stefan cut me off, his sweet, deep laughter filling up the car. "Ninety five degrees! You'll burn your tongue off."

"No I won't," I argued smartly. "Ninety five degrees fahrenheit is not that hot..." I trailed off, distracted by the sudden feel of his warm hand in mine. Stefan's hand was almost twice the size of mine, but yet, when we tangled our fingers together, it was a perfect fit. He gave it a gentle squeeze, and I smiled, resting my head against the seat, facing him. Conversation with Stefan was so easy; it felt like we'd been a couple for weeks already.

"We're in the UK, darling," he reminded me. "We use celsius."

Darling. I liked the sound of that.

Playfully huffing, I tore my hand out from his and crossed my arms over my chest to make a point. "You knew what I meant," I sighed, trying not to let my little grin show.

"Yes, I did," he confessed with an amused laugh.

"I get it." I glared out of the car window. "You've already said multiple times that I'm extremely, shamefully American. I get it."

I briefly glanced over at his hand and noticed his fingers twitch from the loss of contact. Biting my lip to keep from giving myself away, I continued to look out, noticing that we were pulling into the parking lot of a very fancy hotel. "I love your American-ness," he said simply. American-ness? I turned my attention to him, a look of playful confusion spreading across my face when I noticed his expression. I could practically hear him thinking 'you idiot!' to himself. "I love how American you are, I mean."

As soon as the car stopped, I unbuckled my seat belt and rolled up the windows. I finally smiled broadly, leaning over and placing my hand on the farthest side of his cheek, turning his head so he was looking at me. "I love how British you are," I told him lightly, loving the way that his green eyes gazed into my brown ones, as if he was easily getting lost in them. I never really liked my eyes, to be honest; they were muddy and plain, and they almost nearly matched my pupils. But Stefan, the way his endlessly blue-green ones gazed into my own...

I completely lost my train of thought when those beautiful pools of blue-green came a little closer. He was leaning in... or was I? Maybe we both were. That strange synergy began buzzing between us the moment I felt his breath against my lips, and I had to close my eyes, victim to this strange but thrilling sensory overload.

And then his lips gently came in contact with mine, making my heart nearly burst from this newly familiar rush of energy. Instantly, just like last night, everything else was forgotten; there was no time to think. Except this time... there was less inhibition. A first kiss -I had learned from experience- always had a gentle nervousness to it that somehow added to the effect: sweaty palms, short breath, and trembling limbs. Now though, there was little restraint as Stefan tangled his fingers through my hair and eagerly tried to pull me a little closer. I complied easily, feeling like I was back in high school, except this time I was a blushing schoolgirl sneaking around with a boy that she was crazy about. My arms easily slipped around his neck, though it was a little difficult to find a comfortable position in his 1970's style porsche. For a brief second, I willed myself to pull away, due to my burning lungs. I stared at him for a brief second before he pulled me back to him, our lips crashing together in a mix of passion and tenderness. His arms felt so good around me, so strong and so protective.

Eventually though, the moment had to end, and Stefan was the one to come to his senses first. Reluctantly, he tilted his head back, just an inch or two. My breathing was coming heavy now as I sucked in as much oxygen as I could. Stefan, on the other hand, looked a bit dazed. "We... should... um..."

"Get inside?" I finished for him with a little smirk.

"Yeah," he agreed.

* * *

The party was nothing special. I had to give a little speech about the movie and what it was about, answer a few questions, and then meet some fans who won a contest. They were nice and asked me really interesting questions about my career and how I'd been discovered. I was glad they were there, because otherwise, I probably would have been bored and extremely antsy, considering that I had to act like I hardly knew Stefan the entire night.

Every time I found him in the crowd, another extremely good-looking woman was talking to him. There was one French model there who couldn't keep her hands off of him, and despite my unexpected, burning jealousy, it was quite amusing to watch. Whenever she ran her hand along his arm, he politely smiled and took a step away until the girl had backed the poor guy into a table. He looked quite uncomfortable.

Now, I said goodbye to guests as they began clearing out of the Crystal Ballroom, and I followed them out into the lobby. The St. Ermins Hotel was absolutely breathtaking; I'd never seen a nicer lobby in my life. I could only imagine what the rooms were like, and I couldn't wait to see- Alaric had reserved one for me a few days ago because the driver couldn't pick me up after midnight.

As soon as everyone cleared out, I made my way over to Stefan, who was patiently sitting on a nearby couch and reading a copy of Vanity Fair that had been sitting on the table. "Hey," I said tiredly, catching his attention. His face lit up the second he heard my voice, and it did weird things to me. My stomach fluttered and my heart skipped and- it was crazy.

"Hey," he smiled softly, setting the magazine down. "Have fun?"  
"Kind of," I answered honestly. I then raised a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. "Did you, Stefan Salvatore? Quite the ladies man, I see..."

Stefan carelessly shrugged his shoulders as he placed the magazine on the table. "Eh, none of them really caught my attention." He smiled up at me, a little gesture that somehow made me feel even more special. "I should probably be heading home now."

My grin faded instantly. I hadn't spoken to him all night, and I had been hoping to spend a little more time with him. "It's late though. It's dangerous at night with the murderer on the loose and stuff... You can stay here tonight if you want." I immediately regretted the words; that probably sounded so forward and I didn't want him to think I meant I already wanted to be with him like that. So, timidly, I added, "I can easily get a room with two beds."

Stefan shook his head. "I'll be fine getting home. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

Such a gentleman... "Please."

Exhaling, Stefan playfully lifted his hands up, a little way of saying 'if you insist.' "Okay."

Within about twenty minutes, I checked in and went up into my room. Stefan stayed behind for about ten minutes; it was his idea -and a good one, too- to avoid any sort of suspicion, since there was obviously paparazzi lingering around, trying to get any story they could about the party and my upcoming movie.

Although it was small, the room was... wow. The beds were insanely soft, with silk sheets and fluffy pillows. There was a red couch across from them, too, that looked more comfortable than anything I'd ever slept on. Even the bathroom had marble floors!

Soon, I heard a knock on the door and rushed over, quickly opening it. I felt warmth rush through my body the moment I recognized Stefan's kind face, and I eagerly moved aside so he could walk in. He had a little bag over his shoulder, the little computer case that he had probably grabbed from his car, along with two cups in his hands. "Hey, stranger," I greeted with a light nudge.

"Hello, Miss Gilbert," he said back, quickly lifting his eyebrows up and back down. I noticed he did that quite a bit; Stefan liked to express himself through his eyebrows, I realized with a slight giggle. "I couldn't find any soy lattes, but they had tea in the lobby. It should be around ninety five degrees... fahrenheit." Extending one of the cups to me, he nodded his head in a very professional manner.

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore," I joked before taking a sip. It was exactly what I needed; the tea was warm and it slid down my throat with ease, making my whole body relax. "So... just one question: just between the two of us, what are we? Are we together, or very close friends, or dating?"

Stefan tensed. "Friends?"

I winced a bit. "Yeah, okay, good. I didn't think we were just friends either."

His shoulders relaxed a bit and he laughed, a deep sound that shook me to the core in all the right ways. While speaking again, Stefan took a seat on one of the beds, and I moved to sit beside him. "Well, I think it's safe to say we're together, hmm?" When I happily agreed, he kept going. "I refuse to call it dating until I get to take you out on a real, legitimate date that normal couples go on. In the near future, I'd like to do the works: pick you up, bring you flowers, take you to dinner."

I sighed a little bit just imagining it, and rested my head tiredly against his shoulder. "That sounds like a plan," I breathed.

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

Somehow, between small conversation and gentle laughter, Elena and I ended up using one bed after all, her head resting against my chest while my fingers absently ran through her hair. We hadn't done much, truthfully; there was no kissing, no caressing, just pleasant silence and gentle conversation. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way though. This moment, with Elena peacefully in my arms, was something I never wanted to forget.

It felt like something that should have been in a book or a movie. I met this girl, what, a week ago, and I was already crazy about her. Everything about Elena was flawless, from the way she smiled to the sound of her voice when she whispered my name. Even the way it felt to have her in my arms, so relaxed, so beautiful, was wonderful. I was almost convinced she was asleep, until she started speaking slowly. "Tell me about your childhood," she murmured into my chest.

Resting my cheek against the top of her head, I said, "What about it?"

Elena let out a tiny breath, pondering over my question. A few seconds later, she began to speak in a voice that was a little louder. "When you lived in America with your parents."

My heart skipped a little at her question- I didn't know why. "O-okay," I stuttered, calming my voice down. I began to stroke her hair again. "We mostly lived in New York, but I was born in this little town in Virginia."

She started absently tracing patterns against my linen shirt. "Where in Virginia?"

I struggled to remember the name for a long moment. "Mystic Falls, I believe. I don't remember much. We moved to New York when I was three."

For a quick second, Elena stopped the movement of her fingers. "Mystic Falls?" she pondered in surprise. "I grew up there." She laughed to herself, resuming what she was doing before. "Small world." Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.

"Maybe we knew each other," I put in with a light grin.

I could practically feel her smile widen with each word. "Maybe." As soon as she said that, I could hear her breath get a little shallower with my every stroke of her hair. Within a few minutes, she was sound asleep.

Placing a little kiss on her forehead, I smiled to myself. I really didn't deserve someone as special as Elena. She was so understanding, so accepting, and I greatly admired her for it.

I couldn't help but feel my stomach drop as I wondered just how accepting Elena could possibly be once she learned more about my past, when I first moved here to London. My body rushed with this intense sense of shame, my thoughts darkening to a time in my life when I believed that I had no way out, no escape-

And the next thing I knew, I got lost in my mind, in those hazy memories, and the hand that was still resting in Elena's hair began to shake a bit. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no... Where were my pills? I felt a shudder go through my body when I realized they were back at my apartment. Without making myself panic any more than I already was, I tried to remember the advice that one psychiatrist had given me a long time ago...

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax, Stefan, relax.

In a few minutes that felt like an eternity, my hands stopped trembling and I felt the tension gradually leave my muscles. Closing my eyes and exhaling deeply, I internally cursed myself. That hadn't happened in a while, and I'd almost forgotten what a terrifying experience it was.

Caroline was right. I still needed to take the medication.

* * *

**AN: Yayyyy! An update! I hope you guys liked the chapter! Lot's of Stelena fluff- haha! What did you guys think of it? Am I writing Stelena well? (because that's one of the things that matters most!) What do you think is going on with Stefan?**

**Please leave a review letting me know what you thought. Every comment puts a huge smile on my face and inspires me so much! You have no idea- good, bad... they all motivate me to update ASAP. Please let me know what you loved, what you hated, what you want to see, etc. As long as you want to read it, I will keep writing :D**

**Thanks so much! Xoxo**

**Sara**


	9. Chapter 9

_**ELENA'S POV **_

The city of London was eerily silent as I strolled down the glistening streets – it must have rained. There was no one around, not a soul. In one of the busiest, most popular cities in the world, I was completely, utterly alone. What was going on?

"Hello?" I yelled out, looking around aimlessly. "Is anybody here?" Maybe there was some sort of evacuation going on and I hadn't been informed. A shudder raced through my body when I got no response, suddenly overwhelmed by the strange feeling of being watched. I continued to walk, a little faster now, hugging my arms to my body in an attempt to stop the chilling sensation that was coursing through my veins. Gooseflesh spread across my arms with a strong gust of wind; even England wasn't supposed to be this cold in the middle of July. Something wasn't right.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I glanced at Westminster Bridge in the distance. It was nearly impossible to spot the bright bridge, considering how much fog was filling the air.

"No one can save you now…"

Frantically, I looked around for the source of the ominous voice. Finally, I came to the crippling conclusion that I had in fact heard it inside of my head, although the message definitely was not a random thought from my conscience. "Who's there?" I tried, shakily, still walking down the road.

As my vision in the distance cleared a bit, I was able to make out the vague silhouette of a man on the curb. He was leaning over, with his head in between his knees, as if he'd been crying. A strong feeling of relief sent a wave of warmth through me, and I could hopefully see this darkness beginning to fade.

As I came closer, I realized that I recognized the man; that leather jacket with those dark denim jeans, and the glasses that hung from the pocket…

"Stefan!" I shouted. The backs of my eyes started to burn, signaling the upcoming tears of joy that were going to spill from my eyes. This lonely walk… it was haunting, terrifying. Despite his lack of response, I rushed over to him. "Thank god! I thought that I was the last person on earth." A nervous, relieved laugh rolled off of my lips. Still, he did not respond, causing me to be brought back to this strange reality. "…Ste-fan?"

Nothing. No change in posture, no laugh, nothing. I suddenly didn't feel as euphoric anymore, that emotion replaced by something much, much different: worry, fear, anxiety. Unlike a few seconds ago, I took the last few steps to Stefan cautiously and slowly. Saying his name once more, I leaned over beside him and gently gave him a nudge.

My entire body jolted with a horrified shock when he limply fell to the side. What I was expecting was him to at least stay put, but no, he just… fell, right on the concrete sidewalk. I gasped, nervously chewing on my bottom lip as I pored over Stefan's limp body. It was becoming difficult to breathe, with this heavy air and my closing throat from the inevitable fact that he was not going to wake up. It was so dark, but my watery eyes started to adjust, and when I slowly, timidly felt my way along his face, there was a strange wetness on the pads of my fingers once I got to his neck.

Oh no. No!

Blood. It was blood… still oozing from a bite right on his throat.

That was when I realized the streets weren't wet because it had rained. They were shining with blood, the sign of a fresh kill. No, _kills._

As I lifted my head, the fog began to slowly dissipate, leaving nothing to the imagination. There were bodies everywhere, the bodies of people I knew and loved: Katherine, Alaric, Jeremy…

"You're next," that dark voice in my head whispered to me once again. Acting on instinct and momentarily pushing my grievous emotions away, I stood up and _ran, _as fast as I possibly could. But I felt someone behind me, someone who was faster than me, too fast, and before I knew it, it was too late. I did not feel a thing though. I only heard the disturbing sound of tearing flesh against teeth before completely blacking out.

…

"Elena! Elena! Let me in! The driver's waiting outside for you, like always! Damn, can't you wake up on time _once_?" Katherine's sharp voice jolted me out of my nightmare, and honestly, I'd never been so thankful to hear her shrill complaining. Gasping for air, I frantically ran my hands through my hair for a few moments.

Just a dream, just a dream. I was fine. Everything was fine.

"…I'm coming, Kat."

Taking a moment to absorb my surroundings, I realized that I was in the same hotel room as last night. The driver must have sent Katherine up, because she hadn't slept here. Where was Stefan, though? The spot in the bed beside me was cold, but there was a divot in the other pillow, the only evidence that he'd been there.

Fully awake already, I stood up and trekked over to the door so that I could unlock it. "Come in; it's open," I said heavily, searching through my bag for the extra change of clothes that had been packed.

Kat barged in, fabulous as always, with her hair in perfect ringlets and her eyelashes looking extra long from whatever mascara she used. "Actors," she huffed. I smiled in response, trying to shake the bad dream, though it seemed nearly impossible.

"Sorry. I was really tired, I guess," I said lamely. I struggled to get into a pair of leather skinny jeans while watching my cousin's face.

"How was the party?" Katherine ran her fingertips along the coffee table, and I was instantly thankful that Stefan had decided to leave early in the morning. If he had been here, things would have been very hard to explain.

"Fine."

The tiniest of smirks curled on her lips as she avoided my gaze. "And Stefan? Did he have a nice time?"

I stopped in my spot for just a moment. "The intern?"

"Yup." Katherine grinned to herself and pretended to be preoccupied by her nails. "You know, the one who you took to the party? Gorgeous face, green eyes, hot body…"

In order to hide the furrow of my brows, I turned away from her. "Kat, how do you know he has a 'hot body'?" Forcing out a laugh was harder than it seemed. Why was Katherine taking such an interest to Stefan? It would be a lie to say that I didn't mind…

"Oh, c'mon!" She giggled, closing her eyes. "You can totally tell, Elena. His arms. And his shoulders. Damn."

Trust me, Katherine. I know. "Really? I guess I hadn't noticed."

"I have." She sent me a little wink, and I knew that sultry look of hers all too well; it made my insides bubble with rage.

I rolled my eyes, careful to make sure she didn't see. "He's an intern. You can do better," I said simply, quoting her from a few days ago.

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

You fool! How could you, even for a second, think that your life was back on track? Idiot!

I grabbed a pillow from my dusty, old couch and chucked it as hard as I could across the room. How stupid was I, not manning up and taking the medication because I thought I was fine, that "falling in love" would undo everything wrong about my existence. In the midst of my Elena-haze, I'd completely forgotten just what I was dealing with. That was the last time I'd make that dumb mistake.

Making my way over to the full prescription bottle, I unscrewed the cap and took a pill, although I hated the headache it sometimes gave me as a side effect. But I figured that I deserved any sort of pain, no matter how minor, so I'd manage. Was it possible to drown in self-loathing? No, probably not… I would have been long gone months ago. I growled to myself –actually growled; I was that angry—and smashed my fist against the counter.

As if on cue, Caroline barged in, her eyes filled with worry. "What the hell is going on? I heard the door slam!"

I closed my eyes, letting out long, deep breaths. "The shakes… it happened last night. For the first time in months! God, it's like I can't let myself forget. Finally I start to actually feel something again. I start to feel alive and—"

I didn't even realize my sentences were getting jumbled and I was going over them quickly in a state of panic until Caroline slapped me hard across the face. I was then silent. "Calm down," she ordered in a voice that was much softer than her blow. I was waiting for her to give me the dreaded 'I told you to take the pills,' but it never came. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a hug. Closing my eyes, I stood rigid for a moment, until I slowly rested my head on her shoulder in defeat. "You're an idiot, you know." She laughed humorlessly. "You're lucky all you got was the trembling. At least you didn't start doing that sneezing thing…"

I tried to put on a brave face and chuckled at her comment, pulling out of the hug. "Well, I should be getting to work."

It was as if she could read the self-loathing in my eyes. "You're not doing anything stupid, are you, Stefan?"

I shook my head. "No," I promised.

"Good." Caroline smiled lightly. "I don't know what I'd do without my BFF!"

…

At work, it was much easier to compose myself. Wearing glasses and long-sleeve button down shirts had their advantages; this way, I was able to hide under the articles of clothing, bury myself –the real me, the one who no one wanted to know— behind this façade of a concentrated, ambitious young man. Don't get me wrong; I was concentrated _and _ambitious when it came to the film industry, but for these few hours at the studio, that was all everyone saw, for it was all I'd show them.

Then there was Elena, gentle, caring Elena who I had left in her apartment without a single note. I tried opening up to her, I did… but this consuming fear of rejection was enough to keep the darkest parts of myself bottled up inside. She'd hate me if she knew; she'd stare at me with disgust and rage. She'd feel like she'd been fooled.

But I wasn't playing a game with her. When I was with Elena, it felt real. More real than anything I'd ever experienced. How would I explain this to her, though?

I pondered over this as I stared over at her while they filmed another scene. There was an upcoming headache pounding in my skull, and looking at her seemed to ease the pain, somehow. She was wearing a white dress with hardly any makeup on; she looked so pure. So breathtaking.

I didn't deserve her.

The thought surprised me, but it did not take me off guard. _Maybe I should let her go_, I thought. She was too good for me.

"You alright, brother?"

I turned my head up to meet Damon's ice-blue gaze, sighing heavily. His mouth was in a firm line, showing no display of emotion, making it nearly impossible to understand what he was thinking. "Yeah, just having an off day…"

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at the actors. "You have a lot of bad days, don't you?" Despite his inquisitive question, my brother managed to keep his voice monotone, careless almost. He sure had changed a lot since our childhood, that was for sure.

Clenching my jaw, I kept my attention on the scene. "I can handle myself, Damon," I snapped. "I've been doing it for ten years." The words were harsh, I knew… but with my imminent migraine and bitter emotions resurfacing, it was hard to hold back this built up anger inside of me. When our parents died, so did Damon, in a way.

Seemingly unfazed, he shrugged his shoulders. "And you're still getting the hang of it, I see."

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

From the corner of my eye, I watched all day as he left when a room got too crowded, buried himself in work, and remained in a distant corner with his attention firmly glued to his tiny laptop. He didn't smile, really, except for when someone complimented his hard work. Even then, it looked extremely forced. I spent so much time just looking at him, waiting for our magnetic chemistry to kick in and for him to look up and meet my gaze, but he never did. He knew I was staring, I was sure; he just didn't look up.

Stefan wasn't himself today. Had it been something that I said last night?

I ran over our conversation in my mind, over and over again, trying to figure out what it was that had caused this drastic change.

It wasn't until I caught Damon's concerning gaze on Stefan that I realized I wasn't the only one who noticed. Damon, an intimidating and condescending person to begin with, was showing more emotion than I'd seen in my entire visit, and he wasn't even moving. His blue eyes were filled with desolate loneliness, guilt even. He was standing rigid as he gazed at his diligently working brother.

Holding my breath, I clenched my fists at my sides and slowly approached the eldest Salvatore. "Is he gonna be okay?" I questioned softly, hoping more than anything that I had come off as a concerned passerby.

Instantly, all of the sadness and regret vanished from Damon's face. "Should be," he replied curtly. "How was he at the party last night?"

I swallowed as an uneasy sense of worry flooded through me from head to toe. "He was fine," I said truthfully. "He just seems off today. I don't know, maybe he's always that way; I just noticed today…"

Shaking his head, Damon nodded in understanding, but did not respond. After a long pause, he commented to himself, "He shouldn't even be in today."

"Why not?" I prodded.

Without thinking, Damon answered, "His medication gives him bad headaches. And I'm guessing he had another episode, which makes him super depressed. He can't help it though. It's some brain chemical thing, I dunno…" He trailed off. He had obviously forgotten that I was standing here.

Medication? Episode?

I bit my lip, staring over at Stefan again. He was pale had heavy circles under his tired eyes, but he looked as handsome as ever nonetheless. "Why does he take medication?" So much for being subtle… but then again, we were past subtlety. Damon probably just thought I was being concerned and nosy.

He arched a brow in annoyance and briefly turned his attention to me. My heart dropped. He wasn't going to tell me…

"He takes it for his Post Acute Withdrawal."

The words felt like they were in a completely different language and completely went over my head for a few moments.

Wait, what did Damon just say?

Posative you… withdrawal?

Poster cute… withdrawal?

Wait a minute.

_Withdrawal. _Damon said withdrawal.

Besides the initial shock that Damon was actually telling me this, my heart fell to the floor. Stefan? _My_ Stefan had an addiction problem? "Withdrawal from what?"

With a distant gaze, Damon exhaled, "Drugs. I don't know what kind. Hell, I don't think he even knows. Probably whatever he could get his hands on to stop _feeling_. I knew as soon as I heard he moved out that he was too young, but I figured he'd handle himself… next thing I know, I get a phone call from a stranger telling me my baby brother's in rehab and battling depression."

I tried to hide my gasp. It was becoming more difficult to keep my emotions under control. No, Elena, stay focused. You can absorb all of this information later. "How long ago?"

"Two years." Damon's response wasn't hesitant in the slightest, his eyes distant. "I mean, the addiction itself wasn't enough to affect him physically. That itself only lasted a few weeks. He still gets withdrawal symptoms occasionally though. It's enough to haunt him. And Stefan does _not _forgive himself easily."

I looked up at the older Salvatore brother in slight awe. His guilt was apparent. "I thought you two weren't close. I mean, it seemed like…"

"—That's because we're not. We haven't spoken since I left home when I was a teenager. I've helped pay his medical bills for therapy and prescriptions; he doesn't know that, though. I couldn't leave him completely alone."

My brows knitted together. "You care about him." When Damon didn't deny nor accept that bit of information, I kept going. "Just because you left him doesn't mean you can't be brothers again, Damon."

…

Stefan was in my dressing room, exhaustedly wiping away spilled nail polish while listening to his headphones. His back was slightly hunched, his movements slow, and I realized why for the first time all day.

Weighing that much guilt on your own shoulders can be quite a task.

I'd had a few hours to register the news of Stefan's addictive past, and to be completely honest, I wasn't in shock or angry or disgusted like I probably should have been. I was heartbroken for him, saddened. What would it be like to live in regret, to spend an entire lifetime drowning in self-loathing? I couldn't even imagine.

Stefan, my smiling Stefan, my comforting friend and companion, turned out to be the one who needed a crying shoulder. If anything, this newfound information made me feel for him even more, because it was confirmed: he was not flawless. He was just as flawed as everyone else on the planet. He just buried his insecurities, his shame, because he spent an entire lifetime in solitude and it tore him apart.

He was afraid that if people knew the real Stefan, he'd end up right back where he'd been.

I wasn't going to leave him, though. I'd show Stefan Salvatore that he was worthy of forgiveness, of love. If it was the last thing I did.

And no one deserved it more than him. _No one._

After I closed the door and took those few slow steps into my dressing room, I stopped a couple feet away from him. "Hey," I greeted loudly.

He pulled his headphones out and turned around, his eyes meeting mine for the first time in the day. "Oh, hi, Elena." Once again, he began to curl his lips up in that forced smile, the one that made my heart stop in all the wrong ways…

"Are you okay?" Propping myself against the table, I looked at him intently.

Instantly, he dropped the act. "I'm fine," he answered. "Just tired."

_Yeah, I've used that excuse, too. _The words were so close to rolling off of my tongue, but I quickly bit them back. Instead, I merely replied with, "I'm sorry to hear that." When he nodded and looked back to the floor again, I hopped off of the table and made my way over to him. "I feel like I haven't seen you all day, Stefan."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he scoffed to himself.

"It is!" I argued. "You know, you're the only thing that helps me wake up in the morning."

Finally, his eyes flickered with an emotion that wasn't entirely negative. He seemed to be amused. "And how do I do that, Miss Elena?"

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, gazing up at him with a look of admiration. "I'd be so sad here without you." I playfully pouted, lightly playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. "You brighten my day, Mr. Stefan."

He smiled lightly at my nickname, and if my heart could have taken in a little sigh of relief, it would've. Seeing Stefan smile was like finding a drop of water in the middle of the desert. "I could say the same to you."

After I gave him a light peck on the cheek, I reached into his back pocket to grab his iPod. "What are you listening to?"

"What I always listen to."

"Ed Sheeran?" When he closed his eyes and nodded, I giggled.

"I've been doing my research for you," I offered. "I bought his album. I really like 'Kiss Me.' I think I know all the words."

Impressed, Stefan tilted his head to the side. "Is that so?" He gave me that little smile again, and I could only hope that I would be able to get him out of this strange post-withdrawal-depression slump he was in today.

"Yup. Want me to show you?" When he nodded, I pulled him close and placed one hand in his. "I'm not just performing though, okay? We're gonna dance. Like those cheesy couples in movies who just hum songs without music."

He laughed. Stefan laughed for the first time today. And my heart soared. "Show me what you've got, 'Lena," he joked.

I placed my other arm behind his shoulder, pulling him close. "_Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. Lie down with me and hold me in your arms." _I half sang, half spoke the words, but Stefan didn't really mind. With every single lyric, his smile grew a little more, and I couldn't help but feel like I was helping him. "_Kiss me like you want to be loved, like you want to be loved. This feels like falling in love, falling in love—"_

"You missed a big part," Stefan added in while we were swaying back and forth, inches apart. When my eyes met his own green, blue and golden speckled ones, warmth rushed through me; when he was looking at me in this moment, all traces of sadness and guilt were non-existence. In fact, I only saw myself in his eyes… his fathomless adoration, his simple yet profound elation just to be looking at me. It was as if this unique, positive energy that buzzed between us was enough to make him forget about his problems, even just for a few moments. I could practically feel the tension leaving his body.

"What did I miss?" I grinned. Now, in our conversation, we weren't even singing or anything, just idiotically swaying, not caring if anyone walked in at a given moment. I didn't care at least, as long as Stefan's smile didn't fade again. His happiness was mine.

"_Your heart's against my chest."_ He started up again and soon I joined in too. No, we both couldn't sing if our lives depended on it, but that was okay.

"_Your lips pressed to my neck. I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet. And with a feeling I'll forget, I'm in love now…"_

Somehow, I didn't think this was a feeling I _would _soon forget. His arms felt too good around mine, and his masculine scent of shampoo, leather, and, well, _clouds,_ was something that would forever be tattooed into my mind. Stefan and I kept this dancing up for a little while, chuckling in between some very cheesy lines, and I soon realized that I thrived on small moments like these. Moments where nothing else mattered except for the two of us.

So, I would wait until Stefan was ready to tell me about the addiction himself. And when he did, I would kiss him and say that none of that mattered anymore, that I wasn't going to leave his side.

Until then, I would make it my goal _every single day_ to put a smile on his face, to make him laugh.

I was going to show Stefan that he was capable of being loved.

* * *

_**AN: Ah! What an eventful chapter! So, we learned that Stefan had an addiction problem, that Damon was helping him without Stefan even knowing it, AND that Katherine is interested in Stefan! What did you think? I'm sorry if it wasn't that great; I had really bad writer's block here. Please let me know what you thought, because I really need your opinions, since once again, I'm torn as to whether or not to keep writing this.**_

_**What do you think of Elena's decision to help Stefan through everything without him even knowing it? In a way, it's kind of like she's his silent angel, I guess you could say. Please let me know. Also, what did you think of Damon, and how do you think he will act around Elena now after telling her all of those personal things when he technically didn't mean to blurt out half of it? Every single comment means the world to me and inspires me! Like I said, if you guys want me to keep going, I will, so let me know what you thought of the chapter!**_

_**Thank you so much! Xoxo! **_

_**Sara :)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

"Stefan? Oh my god, Stefan. Are you still there?"

Elena's soft voice gradually took me out of the deep sleep that I had been in. I didn't want to wake up; it had been a long, long time since I was actually able to go the entire night. Insomnia was such a bloody burden sometimes, but it was pointless to complain. After all, I had been the one to lose myself in addiction. It was only fair that I faced the consequences. But that didn't mean that I couldn't smile to myself upon realizing that I had in fact made it the whole night without even dreaming. How did I even fall asleep?

Groaning to myself, I looked around my old-fashioned room, noticing the bright sun beginning to peak through the blinds. After I winced at the light, I quickly raised my arm to cover my eyes up again, until I realized there was black ink all over it. Confused, I stared at the scribbles until my blurry vision made sense of them: numbers, a random pattern of numbers, written in bubbly handwriting that definitely wasn't mine...

Elena's cell phone!

Ah, yes! Yesterday, during work, she had discreetly scribbled her phone number onto the inside of my forearm, for she seemed to be appalled by the fact that we hadn't yet exchanged such simple information. Apparently, getting each others' numbers is monumental to a relationship, something that we were supposed to be way past. According to Elena, the exchange of numbers was supposed to come before the first kiss. Oops.

Anyway, as soon as I got home and finished my shift at the bar, I called her.

"Stefan, I can hear you..."

Still feeling a bit hazy, I looked around for Elena to find the source of her voice, until I suddenly remembered that she hadn't been at my apartment last night -or ever, for that matter. Wait a minute. Did we even hang up last night?

"What in hell?" I mumbled to myself, struggling to find my phone. When I did, I hurriedly unlocked it and glanced at the call time. "Elena?"

"Stefan!" I could practically feel her smiling on the other end, and when I envisioned it, it sent a wave of warmth through me. Whenever Elena Gilbert smiled, it was as if the whole world was grinning alongside her. It was a sin not to smile when she did, a task that should have been deemed impossible many years ago. It wasn't just the way her lips curled up though... there was something in her chocolate eyes, a little twinkle that had the ability to make you feel like you were the luckiest man alive just because she was staring at you.

And it was so different than all of my past relationships, so beautifully different. Before Elena, I never wanted so badly just to see a smile or hear a laugh. I knew that relationships could be emotional, but before, I put all of my concentration into the physical aspect, and now... now I knew why they all ended. The other girls were beautiful, sure. They had the right curves and pretty faces... but they were no match for Elena, whose inner beauty made her gorgeous features shine even brighter.

I had to resist the urge to stifle my scoff; I was sounding very -what did the Americans call it?- whipped. Or was I whipped by her? Or being whipped? Was I even supposed to admit that to myself? American phrases confused me far too much...Wow. I caught myself once again. There I was, trying to figure out phrases for her that I would never have used around anyone else.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that whenever I was around Elena, everything just felt... better. Six days ago, I experienced the first withdrawal symptom that I had had in eight months and four days- yes, I counted. The day after that was hell, just like it always was after a withdrawal; the inevitable depression weighted down every other emotion, and it only felt like I was suffocating in my own sorrow. Sorrow and fear, fear that the shaking would happen again at any given moment. Whenever Elena was around though, she was my own personal sunshine, even when the London rain was pouring down. Within a week, from her subtle laughter and gentle kisses, I could do nothing but smile again. Maybe it was selfish; surely, she'd hate me if she knew about my life before I met her, when I was too weak to face my mental solitude and lost myself in heroin injections and countless women. I was incapable, undeserving of everything that was Elena. I hated myself for it, too. I hated that the word 'repulsing' was the first adjective that came to mind when I thought about it, while "endearing" was the first adjective that came to mind when I envisioned Elena.

I wouldn't let myself think about that now, I thought. If the moment came, and I discovered that somehow, I had undoubtedly, completely fallen in love with Elena Gilbert, I would tell her everything. I'd tell her about my past and pray for acceptance, but not expect it. And if she did choose to leave and forget about the time we spent together, I would understand.

As of right now, when I was with Elena though, she seemed happy, genuinely happy. And as long as I could make her smile in that mesmerizing way that she did, I'd remain by her side.

"Stefan?" she repeated slowly, taking me out of my own head, and I instantly felt my lips absently curl into a grin. "My phone says we've been on for eight hours and twenty three minutes..."

Running my hands through my messy hair, I chuckled to myself. "We fell asleep on the phone. How cliché."

I was pretty sure that I would have been able to hear Elena's adorably loud, childish giggling if I had placed my phone all the way in Caroline's apartment. It made me laugh too, and the sound echoed between the walls, almost making the entire room vibrate with a relaxed, peaceful energy. "Hey!" she exclaimed suddenly. Almost perfectly, I could imagine her lying on her hotel bed, with her head where her fuzzy slipper-clad feet should have been, gazing up at the ceiling fan.

Smiling at the mental picture, I said, "Yes?"

"You're calling in sick today."

My brows knitted together in confusion, and I tried to detect any signs of sarcasm in her voice. When there was none, I was extremely puzzled. "Excuse me?" Sighing lethargically, still a bit sleepy, I rolled out of bed and dragged myself into the kitchen.

Elena's voice was stern as she replied, "Yes. You're coming down with the flu."

Popping the lid off of my pill bottle and reaching for a glass of water, I teased, "Yes, Mother. Only if you make me chicken soup."

Her laughter was sweeter than any song I'd ever heard. "No," she protested. "I have a day off for once, and I intend on spending it with you! I mean, I can make you soup if you want, but one: I can't cook, and two: I was hoping you could take me somewhere far, far away."

"I can teach you how to cook sometime," I offered. "But not today, 'Lena. I have a job that needs to be my first priority." I was positive that she knew it was a lie.

"Mmhmm." I could picture her rolling her eyes. "Come on, Stefan, you're the one who came into my dressing room yesterday and asked when we could have a real date! We can do anything. Grab dinner at a little restaurant out of the city, see a movie, go dancing!"

I loved the banter that we always worked each other up to. It was so easy to talk to Elena, and the conversation was always flawless. "Well, I was actually considering it until you brought up dancing."

"Please, please, please?" She whined. "C'mon, what's that song lyric you sang on the first night we hung out? 'I was told to put my job in front of you.'"

Hearing Elena sing, although we both couldn't carry a tune if our lives depended on it, was one of the most beautiful and most memorable things I knew about her. The way she got a little quieter and softer, and just went all out; it was something no one would ever be able, or want to, forget. "'But it won't hold me like you do.'"

"See? Well, if you change your mind, you can drive up to my hotel. Alaric and Katherine are on set, so if you see a very lonely girl waiting outside of the lobby with a very pretty dress and nowhere to go, you'll-"

"Okay, okay!" I bit my lip to keep from smiling. If I kept this up, my entire face was going to be sore by the afternoon. "I'll take you away for the day, but you will be back for work tomorrow. Alright?"

Excitedly, Elena answered, "Deal!"

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

"Oh my word! Are you Elena Gilbert? You're Elena Gilbert!" Turning my attention to the two British girls who were staring at me, I gave them both a friendly smile and nodded.

"That's me!" It always felt like such an honor to get recognized, no matter how many times it happened. Especially, here in London, I couldn't help but feel like I did something right to have young girls all the way on the other side of the world looking up to me. "I'm Elena! And you are?"

"I'm Elena, too," the redheaded girl said with a high pitched, euphoric voice. She grinned up at me, the freckles on her cheeks almost matching her curly hair perfectly.

I chuckled and shook her hand. "You have a very cool name, Elena."

Then, the other girl interjected, "And I'm Nadya!" I shook her hand too. "We're both big fans of yours! When we heard you were filming here, we were hoping we'd be able to meet you. This is a dream come true! You're so good!"

A blush came to my cheeks. "Thank you very much!" Out of the corner of my eye, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Stefan's red porsche, but he wasn't there yet. All I saw was a local bus, a motorcycle, and a few black and white cars passing by. Huh. He said he would be there at noon; usually, Stefan was very punctual.

"It's very nice to meet such great fans," I complimented. "Maybe, if I see you around later on, I can get you both tickets to the pre-showing of the movie. Would you like that?"  
"More than anything in the world!" the redhead, Elena, practically shouted. Her friend, Nadya could only shake her head swiftly in agreement. "Do you mind if we take a picture with you for right now, though?"

"Absolutely!" When they handed me their little camera, I glanced around for a doorman or nice-looking mother to take the photo for us, until I heard a deep, rich voice behind me.

"I can take it."

The entire hotel could have burst into flames in that moment and I probably wouldn't have noticed. Behind me, in a leather jacket and a gray t-shirt that had a few buttons at the top, was Stefan. Somehow, his eyes looked even greener in the daylight, his grin even brighter. "Yeah, totally, that would be great," I swallowed, trying to act as casual as possible. Giving Stefan the camera, I gestured back to the girls and said, "Thank you, Stefan."

When I walked back over to my teenage fans, I noticed that they were staring at Stefan with gawking eyes too, as if he'd just walked out of a magazine. Stifling my laugh, I grinned for the photo and wrapped my arms around both of their shoulders. Stefan snapped the photo quickly. "Thank you!" they said in unison, before turning their attention to Stefan. "Are you the mystery man?"

He looked at all of us in confusion. "The what?"

Nadya ran her fingers through her hair. "The mystery man. Elena's mystery man!"

I froze. "No! He's just a friend- just a co-worker..."

Stefan and I briefly exchanged glances before looking away.

They shrugged. "Oh, well I just thought, 'cause you are both pretty..."

"Thank you," Stefan said, standing a little taller as if he'd been given the biggest compliment of his life.

We all laughed, and after the girls thanked both of us, they ran off, screaming to each other joyously. Once they were out of earshot, Stefan watched them walk away, crossing his arms over his chest. "It looks like you just made someone's day."

Turning my attention up at him and nibbling on my bottom lip, I smiled up at him adoringly. He was so handsome. "So did you."

I noticed the way he pretended to look confused and raised his shoulders a little bit before dropping them. "I did? Whose?"

Laughing to myself, I shook my head. "Just take me on our date."

After giving a courteous nod, Stefan verbally agreed and led me over to the place where he had parked, until he suddenly stopped walking in front of a black, glossy motorcycle. "What's wrong?" I asked confusedly. Why did he stop before he got to his car?

"This is our ride," he grinned. "Did I mention that my Uncle Zach is very rich and still feels terrible about the fact that I lost my parents?"

That explains the motorcycle, car, and iPhone, I thought amusedly. It didn't make my initial shock of the bike fade though. "We're going... on that?"

Stefan simply nodded. "Don't worry, love. I won't let you fall."

I spoke before my mind could even register his words. "I know."

Did he realize that he just called me 'love'? It seemed to be such a casual slip of the tongue, but it did crazy things to me and had me tingling all over. If Stefan called me love, whether he noticed he even did or not, I was pretty sure I'd do almost anything he asked. So, within a minute, I was on the back of Stefan's motorcycle with my arms tightly around his torso, my chest pressed up against his back and the wind making my hair blow behind me. I definitely wasn't complaining. This must have been what it felt like, to be in high school and falling in love.

Falling in love. Was I? Was I potentially falling for Stefan Salvatore? Maybe I was... I mean, whenever he did something as simple as look at me, I could no longer feel the earth beneath my feet.

The fact that he was once addicted to some sort of drug did not phase me too much. I knew that everyone made mistakes, but a moment of poor judgement should not define anyone. And, unfortunately, though he rarely showed it, I knew that Stefan defined himself by what he had done. He was scared to tell me about it, I was sure. He didn't want to lose what we had. So, I had promised myself that I would somehow show him that I accepted him, all of him. Every smile and every frown, every known fact and every piece of information I didn't yet know; I accepted him and adored him for all of it.

After about twenty minutes, Stefan pulled up to a place that looked like a big, empty park. From what I could see, there were acres and acres of land and trees; someone could easily get lost in a beautiful place like this. It was perfect; no one would spot us here. "It's beautiful," I whispered as I threw my legs over one side of the motorcycle, accepting his outstretched hand.

"Welcome to The Heath," he said confidently. "One of the biggest and quietest parks in London. It's a good thing your day off was on a warm day."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Warm day? It's sixty six degrees!"

"That's perfect." Stefan gave me a little wink and took me by the hand, leading us into the endless green park. I was supposed to be concentrating on the nature, but I couldn't help that every two seconds my gaze would linger on his bright face.

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

After a short and pleasant stroll, Elena and I stopped in front of a shining lake, surrounded by beautiful green moss and bright bushes. I loved watching her face light up whenever we got to a different spot of the park; she adored nature. She tried to climb a tree at one point, but couldn't due to her choice of shoes. She then went on to tell me she usually relied on her converse, but when she packed, they were in her garage instead of the closet and she was too lazy to go get them. So, I let her borrow my shoes, but we soon discovered that both of her feet could have fit in one.

The lake was a perfect blue-green, "the color they always are when you see them on a National Geographic special," as Elena had stated. As soon as we arrived at the secluded spot, she kicked off her shoes and ran into the water, despite the sign in the middle of the pond stating that swimming was prohibited from the riverbanks. I loved seeing her like this, so happy and carefree. I hadn't seen this side of Elena before; she laughed at everything and nothing just because she could. I was empathetic, in a way. She was just nineteen, -although she seemed older- and with the loss of her parents and her rise to fame, she'd been robbed of a proper young adulthood. I had been, too. And moments like these, moments where everything was forgotten and we could just be the kids we sometimes forgot we were, were crucial.

It was easy to forget sometimes, how young we both were. There I was, eighteen with far too much life experience, and Elena, newly nineteen but forced to appear as a woman for the rest of the world. But at the end of the day, we were still young, still figuring life out as it went along, as much of a puzzle as it could be.

"Stop staring at me, Mr. Salvatore, and get in!" Elena giggled, pointing at me before diving under again.

I didn't have to be asked twice.

I threw my t-shirt off over my head and rushed into the pond, the cool water making me momentarily freeze and shudder, but as soon as I felt Elena's soft arms wrap around me, that cold feeling was instantly replaced by something else entirely. She nuzzled my neck for a quick second before kissing the underside of my jaw. Her lips were so soft, and I could feel the little, warm droplets of water from the pond gently dripping from her hair onto my shoulder. "Thank you for calling in sick," she whispered against my skin, sending gooseflesh across my arms and legs. "I really needed today. I needed you."

It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to close my eyes and lose myself in this incredible sensation. I was so scared that if I did actually close my eyes, I'd see so many things that honestly terrified and filled me with elation at the same time. If I merely closed my eyes, I knew I'd be visualizing Elena and I in a few years, holding hands, still together, still laughing. Kissing her every day. Waking up to her smiling eyes every morning...

No, I couldn't let myself go there, for I knew that someday soon I would lose her, and the more thinking I did, the more painful it'd be. I could not let myself fall in love... I did not deserve to love Elena.

Feeling my body tense beneath her hold, Elena pulled away and glanced up at me, her chocolate eyes swimming with worry. "Something's bothering you," she stated.

I shook my head. "No, I'm okay." What a lie. Hesitantly wrapping my arms around Elena, she snuggled against my chest in a way that made my heart ache, and I could have sworn I saw her wince. Did she feel it too? "Actually, I'm not okay." I glanced out at the empty park, releasing a sigh. "It's just, there's things... things I can't tell you."

I expected to then be bogged down with curious interrogations, but she simply nodded. "Everyone has a past, Stefan," she began. This time, it was her arms that pulled me a little closer. "When you're ready, you'll tell me?"

Why was it so hard to not fall for her?

"Someday," I whispered. And hopefully you'll understand, Elena. Hopefully you won't hate me the way I hate myself.

But those words went unspoken.

"Someday is good enough for me." She smiled, a little half smile that almost made me dizzy. It was as if she were looking right into my soul, cleansing it, redeeming it. And I knew, right then and right there, that I should have walked away. I should have told Elena Gilbert that I would cause more harm than good for her, and run in the other direction as fast as I possibly could.

The problem, though, was that I couldn't.

Maybe today I could give her a little glimpse of my life in return for her wonderful kindness and understanding. I wanted to open up to her, I really did... and tonight at least, I knew that there was one thing I could finally show her that I had previously been ashamed of.

"Would you like to see my apartment?"

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

The London air was now filled with that pleasant chill of nighttime as Stefan pulled up to Caroline's pub on his motorcycle. Confused, I asked, "What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," Stefan breathed, his shoulders hunched a bit. He lightly grabbed my hand after parking his motorcycle, and made his way around the place until we got to a back door. After that, we snuck through the kitchen, finally reaching a door, which opened to a staircase. Wordlessly, he made his way up, finally revealing three little, wooden apartment doors. On the room that was labeled "three," Stefan reached in his back pocket and opened the door with a gentle creak.

"This," he gestured to the room, "is my apartment." Slowly, politely, I took a step inside and glanced around. It was small, yes, and a little dusty, and not exactly what I had expected, but strangely, I instantly fell in love with it. It reminded me so much of him. It smelled like leather and clouds and, well, Stefan. Despite the age of the place, I could tell that he longed to keep it as neat as possible. On the far end, between the windows, sat a bookcase, filled almost all the way with journals.

I turned around, my gaze meeting his. Poor Stefan, it looked as if he had been holding his breath, expecting some bad reaction out of me. "I like it," I said finally with a genuine grin. "It reminds me of you a lot."

It took Stefan a long moment to respond; for a few seconds, he was just staring at me as if an angel had walked into the room. This chillingly memorable look filled his eyes of adoration and shock... shock that I wasn't appalled by the little place above the rowdy tavern that he called home. If it was home for Stefan, it was home for me. "I'm glad you like it," he finally told me, grinning a little to himself. Distantly, I wondered if he realized I was more understanding than he thought; maybe he was considering telling me about the medication he'd been taking for withdrawal. "It means a lot." I could literally see the tension leaving his body, instead being replaced by this strange calmness and comfort, maybe even a little bit of acceptance. The sadness that had overcome him in the lake was gone.

"So...," I started, trailing my fingers along the spines of all of his past journals, biting my lip. Journaling... in a strange way, it was a bit of a turn on. A guy who could write, who didn't mind spending an hour of his day writing his soul away, it was attractive. "What's the plan now?" I glanced over my shoulder, sending him a little grin that he immediately returned.

"Well, I was thinking I could cook for you," he explained with a raised eyebrow. The thought was enough to make me want to melt. Unfortunately, I couldn't melt though, because I was freezing, in my soaking wet shirt and shorts. I could have sworn he was reading my mind, because almost on command, he unbuttoned the one button on his gray shirt and threw it in my direction. My stomach lurched in all the right, nervous ways. What was I supposed to do with this? "You can change in the bathroom, or my bedroom if you'd like. Whatever works."

To keep myself from girlfriend-snooping, I chose the bathroom, which turned out to be a good choice, because my hair was beginning to do that ugly curling thing, and my makeup was running. I looked like hell. And now I was holding Stefan's shirt, the one that still smelled of his shampoo and waterfalls and grass. Before changing my mind, I took my clinging t-shirt and bra off, throwing the gray t-shirt over my head. I decided to leave my shorts on though; they were fine.

His shirt was huge on me. It went halfway down my thighs and almost went over my shorts. Strangely enough, I kind of liked the way I felt in it, despite its bagginess. I was surrounded by this warm vibe and scent of Stefan, and I never wanted to forget it. Maybe I'll get to be enveloped by this feeling again and again in the future, I thought to myself with a smile. When I could smell the wonderful aroma of something... something good... coming from the kitchen, I threw my hair in a ponytail and washed the remaining makeup off of my face hurriedly.

I quietly opened the bathroom door, just watching Stefan for a moment. His back was to me -his bare back- and I didn't mind staring. His jeans hung loosely around his hips, and I realized for the hundredth time that not only was my Stefan extremely hot; he was beautiful.

"What are you cooking?" I questioned.

At the sound of my voice, Stefan turned around. From the look on his face, you'd think he had had a heart attack. His eyes widened for a brief moment and I couldn't help but wonder why he was staring at me like I was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen. I had no makeup on, a huge shirt that was way too big, and messy hair tied back. His eyes scanned over my body quickly, an action that made me feel hot under his stare.

To cover up my wonderfully pounding heart, I repeated my previous question.

"Oh." Stefan snapped out of his daze. "Chicken Parmigiana. You said you liked it once, I believe. And lucky for you, I'm somewhat Italian. Therefore-"

"I'm gaining ten pounds just thinking about it!" I interrupted, laughing. He chuckled, returning to the pot, stirring his wooden spoon. Before I could get distracted by staring at his back again, I walked over to his side, staring in. "Tomato sauce?"

"Marinara," he corrected.

Rolling my eyes, I gave him a little nudge. "Oh, my bad, Mr. Snooty Chef over here!" Stefan grinned at me, a playful half-glare half-gaze. Then, he trailed his fingers along my lower back, drawing absent, random shapes with his pointer finger. Victim to his little touch, I leaned against him. "Can I try it?"

"Mhmm." Stefan, getting in his dramatic chef mode, turned away and stirred the sauce a few more times before raising the spoon to my lips. I closed my eyes as he did so, and I had to admit, it was really good! No, actually, it was amazing. So, Stefan journaled, cooked, rode a motorcycle, and was quite the romancer?

He had to know that no matter how bad his flaws were, his golden personality made up for them all. His heart, too. His pure heart.

I opened my eyes, only to meet his perfectly green ones. Did they change color? Sometimes they seemed bluer... but not tonight; tonight, they were bright green, with little flecks of blue and gold... Stefan had really pretty eyes...

And then I kissed him. I roughly pulled him in by the back of his neck and crashed our lips together in a heated blur. I don't know what came over me; Maybe it had to do with the fact that he had opened himself up to me a little bit tonight by showing me his little apartment, along with the fact that his eyes were so green, and that he could cook, and that he journaled, and that I was in his shirt and he didn't even have one on...

Okay, it was everything. Everything about Stefan Salvatore had me reeling.  
The fact that he returned the pressure of my lips was almost too much to take, and when he began to trail his tongue along the edge of my bottom lip, I instantly granted him access, our tongues battling in a sudden, unexpected combination of passion, and adoration, and everything I wanted in a kiss.  
No one had ever kissed me like this before.

Together, blindly, we stumbled over to the couch. Stefan fell on top of me, our lips fighting for dominance in the sweetest war I'd ever experienced. I ran my hands along his smooth, perfectly sculpted back, realizing that this sensation, with lungs burning and hearts pounding... was something I'd happily get lost in forever.

After quite some time, Stefan pulled away, staring down at me with swollen lips and beautiful, shining eyes. "Elena," he whispered my name best he could, a smile lighting up his entire face. The way he said my name made me see stars. It was clear, from the expression in his face, that he did not want to take this any further tonight, and I couldn't help but agree. What we had didn't need to become physical yet. Kisses like this, and long talks and strolls through the park... it was all I needed for tonight. I wanted to savor this moment, memorize every crevice in his face, every single feature. "Elena," he said again between laughter. "My sauce is going to burn."

I laughed, a loud, echoing sound, even though it wasn't that funny. I was just giddy, ridiculously giddy.

I was falling in love with Stefan Salvatore.

The thought sent a rush of adrenaline through me, and I instantly gave him another lingering kiss on the lips. Yes, I was falling in love!

The moment was short lived though, for a knock on the door snapped us out of our little bubble. "Stefan!" A high pitched, somewhat familiar voice made me glare at the door. I tried to match a face. "Stefan, guess what I heard today?"

"Caroline," he whispered.

And as he opened his mouth to explain that she had a spare key to his apartment, it was a little too late. The door swung open, revealing a very surprised and startled Caroline.

Stefan and I exchanged nervous glances. Oh no.

Busted.

* * *

_**AN: YAY! I finally updated! Sorry this took so long, guys! I've been kind of busy! But, I made it a long, semi-fluff chapter to make up for my absence. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Your feedback is greatly appreciated :)**_

_**Please let me know what you thought! Of course, the big question, what are you thinking of Stelena? Obviously, Elena is a little more willing to fall because she knows what Stefan is hiding. Stefan, though, is a bit conflicted because well, he's feeling so many emotions and doesn't know what to do with them. Will Elena help him accept the things he's done? Has Stefan already fallen in love? Please let me know what you're thinking, what you wan't to see more of, what you loved, what you hated, etc. Without your reviews, I'd honestly be lost. You guys know, if you want to keep reading, I'll keep writing. Let me know! **_

_**Thank you so much! Xoxo**_

_**Sara :)**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

Caroline's big, blue eyes got even wider as she continued to stare at us. Elena and I were still frozen in place on my couch, with my body hovering above hers. A slow blush was coming to Elena's cheeks, and a part of me was hoping that Caroline would just shut the door and turn around -she could always ask me about it later, without Elena around-, but then I remembered: she was Caroline, and Caroline was never one to back away from any possible dirt she could get her hands on. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?" she questioned with a slight, amused grin.

Elena cleared her throat, taking me out of my initial shock of being caught with my secret girlfriend. Hurriedly, I forced myself to sit up and move to the seat beside her. When I began to raise my hands to smooth out my shirt, I realized with awkward surprise that I wasn't wearing one and quickly set my hands back to my sides. Right. Elena had my shirt on.

I could only imagine what was going on in Caroline's head.

"No, actually. You're not interrupting a thing." Elena's voice was unnaturally cool, considering that on the inside she was obviously mortified. It was a good thing that she was an actress. "Right, Stefan?"

I blinked. "Yes, of course. I mean, no. You were not interrupting anything. Obviously. What would you be interrupting?" I guess I wasn't as gifted as Elena when it came to lying; the only response that I got was a silent glare and a suspicious look. "Well... I'll give you the answer. Nothing. Not a thing..."

After releasing a slight giggle, my friend turned her attention to Elena. "Nice shirt."

"Um, thanks," she breathed out. "It's... new."

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. It was an obvious attempt to keep her laughter in. "Let me guess. It was a gift."

I could feel my resolve breaking. Letting out a deep, exhausted sigh, I began, "Listen, Care... I can explain. Remember that girl I told you about?"

Her face lit up. "Yes, the one who put you in quite a mood. If I remember correctly, you couldn't stop smiling." Her gaze was now transfixed on Elena. "I've gotta give you props. I can hardly ever get a grin on his face, and you come along and make it seem like the easiest task in the world."

First, another blush came across Elena's face, followed by a quick wave of anger. She swiftly turned her head in my direction. "You told her about us already?"

"Don't worry," Caroline piped in. "You were totally anonymous, the mysterious 'girl from work.' I was beginning to doubt that you were actually real." She laughed lightly and sent me a playful wink. When Elena laughed as well, I swore I could actually feel my heart drop and relax a bit, the tension in the room finally at ease.

Clearing my throat, I sat up a little straighter. "Well, erm, Caroline, this is-"

"Elena," my bubbly friend beamed. Before I could ask how she knew that, she explained, "We met a couple weeks ago in the pub. You were pretty cool. I always remember a new face at the place. We usually get the same locals every night... old, drunken blokes babbling about vampires and sea monsters and what not. And, yes, Stefan counts as one of them. But, ya know, can't blame him. He's a writer."

Rolling my eyes, I sat back with mock aggravation. "I'm not old."

Elena smiled, a beautiful, friendly smile in response to our childlike banter. "And you're Caroline. Stefan talks about you a lot." My friend dramatically brought her hand to her heart as if it was the greatest compliment she'd ever received. They started going back and forth, saying something about how London was a pretty city, but I got distracted by the long curl of hair resting on Elena's face that had fallen out of her ponytail. I wrapped it around my fingers and lightly tried to straighten it out, and then watched with simple amazement as it bounced back to the exact same form as before.

"So, Caroline," Elena said seriously, catching my attention again, "Stefan and I... you can't tell anyone about us."

"I won't," Caroline promised confusedly, "but why?"

I bit my lip. "Bad publicity for Elena, with her movie coming out in a few months and all," I began. "In case you haven't noticed, actresses don't usually even talk with coffee-delivering interns, let alone start dating them."

Caroline scrunched her nose at that. "That shouldn't matter," she cried, more to Elena than me. "You can't help who you fall in love with!"  
The word, "love," made me tense up. I almost wanted to tell her that we weren't in love, that Elena could no way ever love me, but I bit the words back. Instead, I changed the subject. "So, what did you want to tell me?"

Caroline exhaled. "Right. I came up here for a reason! Well, I heard from the guys downstairs that three people were killed tonight. Three! Can you believe that? These killings are getting really out of hand. I just wanted to warn you. You both probably shouldn't be outside tonight. I'm sure staying here wouldn't be a problem for you, Elena." She smirked and knowingly sent me another wink, to which I rolled my eyes dismissively.

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

"Bloody hell!" Stefan cursed under his breath. I was quickly learning that it seemed to be one of his favorite phrases. I was now curled up on his couch, with my legs resting over the tops of his thighs. Caroline had been gone for about an hour now; she had to work down at the bar again. Stefan offered to help, but she kindly refused, saying that he needed time alone with me.

I liked Caroline, but she was anything but subtle.

"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed. We hadn't spoken in about fifteen minutes, enveloped by a comfortable silence, where he had gently raised my -his- shirt and traced gentle circles along the skin of my back. I thought maybe he had fallen asleep.

"My sauce! Damn it. It's probably burnt!"

Oh. I'd completely forgotten about the dinner he wanted to cook for me. "I don't smell it burning," I observed gently, running my fingertips along his rose tattoo. It should have been strange for me, too forward, to sit there, enveloped by nothing but Stefan's arms and his intoxicating scent, wearing his shirt, when we hadn't even made love yet. But it wasn't. Not in the slightest. In fact, it felt perfect, and I was beyond grateful of the fact that this blossoming relationship was not getting ruined by becoming physical too soon. These soft touches and gentle caresses... they were enough. Tonight, they were enough.

"My sauce is definitely burning," he muttered to himself angrily. "You don't smell it, but it's burning."

I giggled. "Then go check on it, dummy."  
Stefan groaned, simply pulling me closer to him. "If it's burnt, then the damage is already done." He nuzzled my neck.

I giggled when I felt his lips fluttering across my skin, and I playfully pushed him off of me. "It's probably not burnt. Go check on it." He still didn't move; I tried to push him, but it was like trying to shift a rock. "Please?"

"Fine," he said, exasperated. After placing a quick peck on my lips, he slowly got up and made his way over to the pot, turning off the burner. Then, hesitantly, closing his eyes and expecting the worst, Stefan lifted the lid. A cloud of smoke followed, and his disappointed expression was one that I would never forget. "Well, it's done."

"Oh, no," I giggled. Hurriedly, I stood up and made my way over, quickly realizing that the inside of the pot was pitch black. "You were right."

Still, we ended up eating it. Too nervous to cook anything else, Stefan boiled some spaghetti and checked every ten seconds to make sure it wasn't getting overcooked. The sauce was still good, and I told him that, but he shook his head and could only laugh at his disappointing cooking skills. I was pretty sure that he had said, "I am usually a good cook," about thirty-five times. I believed him, but of course, I could not let it slide without a little harmless teasing, which led to a playful argument, which turned to a silly game of cat-and-mouse around his apartment.

"Stop! Oh my god! Fine! You win! You win!" I was having trouble getting the words out through my hysterical laughter while Stefan wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and lifted me about a foot in the air. "Put me down or I swear, I'll tell everyone about the sauce and ruin your cooking reputation!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Then, emitting a sound that resembled a growl, he fell backwards onto his bed, dragging me down with him.

The relentless tickling probably would have bothered me if it came from anyone but him, but since Stefan was the one torturing me with tingling laughter, I didn't mind at all. In fact, I never wanted it to end. But then, after a short while, something crossed my mind, and I had to practically shout between my laughter, "Wait! Wait! Stop! I have something to ask you!"

Finally, he stopped his tickling and turned on his side to face me, resting his elbow on the pillow, his cheek resting on his hand. "Yes?"

I caught my breath for a few moments, letting my head fall on the same pillow as Stefan before speaking. "The murders," I breathed out. "What's going on here?"

Stefan's brows knitted together, puzzled. "I wish I knew," he confessed. He pressed his lips to my forehead. "Why? Is it bothering you?"

"I don't know," I huffed. "It's just scary, I guess. All these innocent people, and no one knows what happened to them..." Just the thought sent chills through my body, followed by an aching curiosity that I couldn't shake. That feeling was dulled though, by Stefan's comforting touches and kisses. "Do you really think it's a monster, Stefan?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "It seems to be the only thing that makes sense, doesn't it? But, no, I don't know. Probably just a Twilight fan with a vampire fetish," he joked. Huh. I could have sworn I'd heard that phrase somewhere else, but I wasn't sure where. "I just hope they find the killer, and soon."

I shuddered. "Me, too." Aching for more serenity than I was currently feeling, I rested my head on his chest, concentrating on the steady heartbeat just beneath his warm skin. "But I have you to keep me safe," I offered with a light grin.

Stefan's safe arms pulled me even closer to him; I could feel the warmth -the life- radiating off of him. "Always," he whispered, right into my ear. The shudder that went up and down my spine this time was not ominous or chilling; it was hot, it was pleasurable. Stefan's deep voice whispering into my ear, his arms pulling me close, the overwhelming, indescribable scent of his skin evading my senses... it was almost too much. And so when he brought his lips down to softly meet mine, I did not even consider rejecting them.

In fact, I raised my hand and let my fingers lightly tangle with the back of his hair, enjoying the addicting burn of such a slow, steady kiss. This was the gentlest he'd ever been with me and I adored it. I did not know if Stefan loved me, but I can assure you, I felt loved. I felt safe. I felt protected. In Stefan's arms, nothing could touch me. Nothing could touch us.

His hands left burning skin in their wake. When he slowly walked his fingertips to the outside of my thigh and pulled me on top of him, barely smiling against my lips, I wanted nothing more than to stay like that with him forever. It would be so easy, wouldn't it?

But just like that, the moment was ruined by the annoying ring of Stefan's phone in his side pocket. He didn't seem to register the relentless sound, so when I pulled away, he eagerly tried to bring my lips right back to his, making me giggle lightly. "Your phone," I whispered into another kiss.

"Let it ring."

"What if it's something important?"

Sighing, Stefan reached into his side pocket and pressed the "send button."

"Hello?" he groaned. "Yes, I'm Stefan Salvatore... Damon is my older brother... Is something wrong?"

There was a long, long pause where Stefan didn't speak. I tried to read his face, but it was completely blank. I was wondering if he had lost the phone connection when his lips finally started moving again. They seemed to be the only thing moving though; he wasn't breathing, wasn't blinking.

"What?" was all he said. "Wha-no. That... I'm going to need for you to repeat that."

I stopped breathing too.

"No, that's not possible. No. Who is this? What kind of joke is this? I swear, I will track down this number and then- NO! That can't..."

Stefan was no longer frozen. He was trembling.

"Where? Bloody hell... no..."

And then the phone just dropped from his hands onto the wooden floorboards. I watched as the screen cracked and shattered into a thousand different pieces. "S-Stefan?" I stuttered. "What is it?"

He didn't respond, his lips shaking so much that he had to bite them to keep them still. After a moment, without even maintaining eye contact, he lightly guided me off of him and absently walked out of the room, as if in a daze.  
"Stefan!" My voice cracked with the loud shout. I urgently followed him, gripping him by the shoulders. "My god, Stefan! What the hell is wrong?"

"I-it's Damon," he said, trying to swallow the words as he said them. "They found his body... they found his body... they found his body drai- my god! They found his body!" I could now see the wheels in Stefan's mind begin to turn again as he registered his own words, the joyous light in his eyes completely gone.

My body turned to ice. "As in... he's dead?"

"Murdered, Elena. He was murdered." And with those words, Stefan grabbed his keys from the counter and rushed out to the hallway, down the stairs. I hurried to follow him, shouting his name as I went.

In the kitchen of the pub, I roughly grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Stefan!" I cried, feeling icy tears spilling down onto my own cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"I don't believe it," he growled, continuing to walk out the back door. "I don't believe it. They had to be lying. It wasn't my brother. He isn't stupid enough to get himself killed. I'm going to his apartment, and I'm going to see that he's fine and then..." Stefan didn't even finish; he simply stormed outside, still without a shirt -or even shoes- and began to furiously push at his motorcycle. I tried to think of something to say, but my own mind was failing me. Damon was... dead? Damon?

I watched as Stefan completely fell apart. As soon as he got his bike standing up, he kicked it over and sat on the curb, burying his face in his hands while his shoulders violently shook. With every tremor that went through his body, I could have sworn that my heart broke a little more. He punched the gravel, and even in the darkness I could see blood welling from his fists. And as much as I wanted to go to him, I felt helpless.

Finally, despite my uncooperative legs, I started to step forward. Suddenly, a familiar, icy chill rushed through my body, stopping me dead in my tracks.

I was being watched.

I looked around for the source, but to no avail. I tried to say Stefan's name, but no words would escape my throat as this horrifying fear completely took over my body. And finally, when I followed the instinct to run, I regretted it.

Cold, strong, unfamiliar hands gripped my shoulders, and I could remember a sharp, burning pain at my throat.

The last thing I saw before blacking out was Stefan, still sitting on the curb, losing himself completely to grief.

_Oh, Stefan_, I thought weakly. _Please be okay..._

* * *

_**AN: OMG, guys, it has been SOOOO long! I'm so sorry for such a long update :( So much has happened in this past month and I lost inspiration and could not find the time to write. The good news, I went to TVDcon and got to meet Paul again, which was great! But it was bittersweet... because I also had some personal things going on and I lost a lot of inspiration. But I'm back! And I promise, I will have quick updates now as much as I can! I hope I didn't lose all my readers.**_

_**Anyhow, now onto the chapter! I know, a lot happened, but please give me your feedback! What did you think? What happened to Elena? What happened to Damon? How will Stefan cope with the loss of his brother?**_

**_Please leave a review letting me know what you thought! What you loved, what you hated, what you want to see more of, let me know! Your reviews mean the world to me! As long as you want me to update, I will. Thank you all so much! Sorry again for such a long update!_**

**_Xoxo_**

_**Sara**_


	12. Chapter 12

_One week later..._

* * *

_**STEFAN'S POV**_

At some point, in the midst of intense grief, after you've cried all the possible tears you can, a strange sense of numbness comes over your entire body in a wave, like a high dose of novocaine. The only thing that remains is a hollow sense of loss -a sense of emptiness- weighing down your entire being, your soul. But it's tolerable. It's one of the worst and best feelings a person can experience while grieving.

The numbness overwhelming my body was the best thing I had felt in days... because of the fact that it was nothing. Like a blank page. A static television. A vacant home. Right now, at this given moment in time, I felt absolutely nothing, my every emotion fried to the point of uselessness. This feeling -an addicting one- was originally what had driven me to my addiction last year, so I could stop feeling altogether. It was never the same though. It was scary, feeling so utterly alone in life that I had driven myself to such a personal low. But right now, I did not have to worry about that, because naturally, my mind had stopped working. Hell, I'd even felt so much of nothing that I'd mistaken it for some strange remnant of happiness, and I ended up at work, if anyone was even calling it that.

The entire studio was filled with quiet people, walking with their heads down as they tried to keep themselves busy with unnecessary work, like handing out coffees or copying scripts. Elena's scripts. As if she was coming back.

If I could have felt anything, I probably would have been angered by this secretary's stupid excuse for work. What a waste of paper. Elena wasn't coming back. The person -the thing- roaming the dark streets of London had killed her. I just knew it, deep in the pit of my stomach. It murdered her because I was too stupid to lift my head when she followed me outside. And when I finally looked up, she wasn't there; there was no sign she'd even been standing behind me, and what did I do?

I thought nothing of it.

I got on my bike, rode to Damon's apartment where the caller had said the body was, and found nothing. No screaming crowd of civilians, no ambulance, no body... no blood! But also, there was no Damon. He wasn't in his apartment, or the studio...

Within the same hour, I quickly discovered there was also no Elena.

And it haunted me, the fact that I was responsible for all of it. My recurring dreams of Elena appearing in my apartment and telling me over and over again that I killed her had become a regular part of my life at this point. It was either that or hallucinations; my withdrawal symptoms had been bad lately, probably because the idea of relapse was always fresh in my mind.

Yesterday, they had both officially been declared missing persons, although they'd truly been gone for a week. A whole week! The cell phone that had called me could not be tracked, but I was sure of one thing: whoever had called had taken -or killed- them both. And I was determined to find this sad mistake for a person and put their murder-spree to an end, for the sake of justice and revenge.

Now, as I slowly ran my hand along Elena's table where she looked over scripts, I sighed and leaned against it. The grief was returning; I could feel the painful ache in my chest, the overwhelming guilt for not turning around. It would have been so easy! Instead, I just cried over the unknown death of my brother. Maybe I could have saved Damon, too, if I hadn't bent over weeping like a child. Maybe the killer hadn't taken him until after they'd taken Elena. Maybe-

"Stefan?"

I raised my head, only to be greeted with Katherine's brown eyes. Her voice... it had been so similar to Elena's. Was it strange that I was still hoping my girlfriend was the one to walk through that door? "Katherine, hey..."

She leaned against the doorway, her regular poise and confidence seemingly gone. Her skin-tight clothes seemed a little looser than usual; it seemed as if she had lost weight. "You okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse and quiet.

"Honestly?" I began, scoffing humorlessly. Her lips quirked up in a slight grin, an attempt at a fake smile, though it faded almost the second it started. I wondered if I was finally meeting the Katherine who was hidden beneath thick layers of makeup and hair product. "I'm sorry," I began, dropping my head, "about Elena. I wasn't- I couldn't- I should have-"

"Saved her," she finished for me. I nodded and shamefully dropped my head. "I don't blame you, if it makes you feel any better. I know some people do, but not me. Why were you with her anyways?"

Biting my lip, I refused to respond for a few moments. My mind was not working well enough to think of a decent excuse on the spot. "She stopped by the pub that night and... uh..."

"You fell in love with her." With those words, I slowly raised my head -with eyes full of confusion, I'm sure- and met Katherine's dark eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but she interrupted, "How did I know that? I know Elena very well, Stefan. She's my cousin. And in my personal opinion, she's not the best actress. See, she talks and talks and it's great. It's emotional and believable. The Teen Choice Awards agree and that's great, but there's a reason she doesn't have an Oscar."

I could feel my lips curl up into an amused grin at Katherine's words. "And why is that?"

"It's all in the eyes, Stefan. She can't act through her eyes." Arching an eyebrow, she put both hands on the table and sat on it, right beside me. "The point of what I just said? Long story short: she's a very bad liar if you know how to read her."

I chuckled, the closest to a laugh I'd gotten all week. "Well, now you know. I guess none of that really matters though, does it?" Any twinge of amusement had already faded.

She leaned closer and placed her hand on my shoulder, a simple gesture to show comfort. My senses were briefly evaded by the familiar scent of vanilla shampoo -Elena's shampoo- and I had to close my eyes to keep from leaning closer. I was sitting next to Katherine, not Elena, I reminded myself. Even if Katherine looked similar to Elena and used the same shampoo, she was not Elena, never could be... "Hey," she whispered. "We'll find her."

"Yeah," I said simply. "We will."

I wished that I could believe my own words.

"We will," she promised, firmly. "Damon too. And no matter what, you have to tell yourself you're lucky with the time that you got with them." I gritted my teeth as I listened to Katherine's attempt at being soothing. How could I feel fortunate if I was the one to blame? As I continued to think, she kept going, "They're lucky to have gotten the time that they did with you."

"And how so?" I snapped venomously. "For all we know, I could have gotten them both killed. Having me in their lives was probably the worst damn thing to happen to both of them!"

Katherine sighed. "They were lucky," she said softly, in one of the gentlest tones I had ever heard from anyone. I had to admit; I was shocked that it was actually Katherine who had said the words, so much like Elena would have, in such a soothing, empathetic tone. I had no choice but to believe her in this vulnerable moment. "Elena was so lucky, Stefan." I could feel her fingers brush against my hair behind my ears in a soothing manner- well, they weren't really her fingers, more like the tips of her long, fake nails. As she moved closer, her voice darkened a bit, returning to the original tone that I was used to, the rich, seductive one that Katherine was infamously known for. "To be completely honest, I've been a little jealous of her." My body went rigid. When I didn't respond, she kept going. "All of the time she got to spend with you..."

"Katherine...," I said levelly, closing my eyes. I suddenly became very aware of her fingertips caressing my hair. "I can't."

"I know, Stefan, I know." As she whispered the words, she moved a little closer to me, resting her forehead against my temple; I remembered Elena once doing something similar. Once again, the scent of Elena's vanilla hotel shampoo overwhelmed me. "But I'm here for you, okay? Anything you need. Anything."

I swallowed. "Okay."

With that, Katherine placed a slow kiss on my cheek and slid off of the table. "I'll see you later," she said before disappearing. I exhaled heavily as soon as she was gone, and raised my hand to my cheek. Beneath the obvious guilt of whatever had just happened, my heart had been fooled; I could have sworn that the fathomless, unforgiving gap had closed just a little bit. Katherine wasn't Elena; I knew that. But there were so many little things, so many habits of Elena's that her cousin had picked up on. She reminded me so much of her.

Dear God, I missed Elena so much.

* * *

_**ELENA'S POV**_

I shivered. The London air was circling around me with an eerie, unshakeable freeze that chilled me to the bone. Where was I? What time was it?

The drivers of cars honked at me in aggravation, swerving around my trembling body and sending me a dirty look while doing it. After realizing that I was standing in the center of the street, I slowly made my way over to the sidewalk. I was weak, tired... hungry. When was the last time I had had something to eat? An eternity?

Not many people were driving right now, and the moon was dimly looming overhead, leading me to believe it was very late at night, maybe even three in the morning. Disoriented and barely even coherent, I trudged toward the big, bright ferris wheel that lit up the whole area. It was a landmark... but a landmark for what?

The bridge. I needed to cross that bridge... and get somewhere... get to someone...

Stefan. I needed to get to Stefan! I needed to cross Westminster Bridge and get to the pub... get to Stefan's apartment. My heart nearly burst as I recalled the last memory I had before waking up here: Stefan, sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, his shoulders wracking with silent tears over the supposed death of his brother. And I could do nothing but watch.

Throat burning and muscles aching, I slowly took the three mile walk from the London Eye to Caroline's Pub. Despite my body's desperate need to just stop and rest, I kept going; the lingering image of Stefan's broken face haunted my thoughts and motivated me to keep going. When I managed to get through the back door of the pub, I crawled up the kitchen stairs until I reached the three apartment doors. Practically stumbling, I knocked on the door with the little "2" written on it. The yellow beam of light coming out from beneath the door was the only indication that Stefan was still awake.

I stopped breathing when I saw the knob turning. Slowly, hesitantly, Stefan opened the door, and the moment our eyes met, all of the color drained from his face. I barely croaked out his name, an attempt to get some sort of reaction out of him, but he only looked more terrified. His jaw was set, and for the first time, I got a good look at his face; it looked much thinner, hollower. He looked older, too. No one was mistaking him for a floppy, geeky, fresh-out-of-high-school teenager anymore. It was almost as if the pain had been etched into his face, and that realization made my heart shatter. He looked broken. Beautiful nonetheless, but completely... shattered. For the hundredth time, I was reminded that he had experienced way more than any eighteen year old should have. "Stefan, I'm so confused," I tried. "I woke up in the middle of the street and everything hurts-"

"Stop," he practically growled, interrupting me. I was taken aback by his tone, though I could have sworn I sensed desperation in his voice as well. "Please... just leave me alone."

"What the hell, Stefan?" I gritted my teeth. What on earth had I done to make him so angry? Here I was, disoriented and pained, and he wasn't going to even let me into his apartment? "Look, if I did something-"

I watched as his knuckles turned whiter, his grip tightening on the side of the door. "I know I should have looked up. I know I hurt you. I know I killed you. I know. So, please, there's nothing else you can say. Just go. You're not real."

I let out the breath I didn't even know I had been holding, my eyes searching his for any sign of clarity in this moment; I found none. He didn't think I was real. Clearly, he thought this was a dream. "How long have I been gone, Stefan?"

He was puzzled by my question, taken aback. "You've been missing for week."

I gasped. "A whole week?" He looked -actually, he glared- at me as if I had three heads, an expression I never expected to see on Stefan's gentle, loving face. Or at least I never expected to see that look directed at me. "I don't remember anything."

He rested his head against the side of the door and tightly shut his eyes. "Dear god, please leave me alone!" he cried, hitting his head against the hard wood. "Wake up, wake up," he muttered to himself furiously. I could feel hot tears threatening to spill from my eyes at the sight of Stefan in this moment; the guilt was eating him from the inside out, haunting him every night... and in my form. He truly believed, even while I was missing or possibly dead to him, that I despised him and blamed him for whatever had happened.

"Stefan," I breathed his name like it was the only word I knew. "Oh, Stefan. I'm so sorry."

He stopped what he was doing and stared. He looked completely and utterly baffled. "You're apologizing?" I noticed that his hands were shaking a bit, his eyes filling with the smallest glimmer of hope.

"You're not dreaming," I promised. "It's me, Stefan. It's really me."

The resignation in his eyes was obvious. "C-come in," he said finally. With his head lowered and posture anything but confident, he stepped aside from the door and I walked inside, never taking my eyes off of his strange composure.

"Am I hallucinating?" he asked me. "I'm hallucinating, aren't I? Yes, of course I am. Stupid withdrawal..." He paced for a few seconds before striding over to his small kitchen counter, unscrewing the lid of his pill bottle, pouring what had to be at least five capsules into his hand.

"Stop!" I snapped, running over to him, grabbing his wrist and taking the pills out of his palm. "Are you trying to kill yourself? Oh my god! I'm real, Stefan! I'm here!"

He breathed out shakily and leaned against the counter, his breathing ragged. He stayed like that for a few seconds, frozen in place, and I started to wonder if I was actually going to drive him to a breaking point if he didn't realize soon that I was actually here with him. So, acting on instinct, I grabbed his tense shoulders and spun him around. Then, before he even had time to react, I pressed my lips against his, a little more forcefully than usual, a clear attempt to get him to feel something, anything.

When I pulled away, I finally saw a glimmer of familiarity in Stefan's green eyes. "Tell me that wasn't real," I pleaded, holding his face between my hands. "Look, Stefan. I'm touching you. You can feel that, right? It's me. I'm actually here. I'm sure you've had dreams or hallucinations where you've been touched, but it feels different. This... this is real." Cautiously, I took one hand from his face and ran it through his hair, down his back, until I finally pulled my body tightly against his. I could feel the feverish heat radiating off of him, whereas he could probably feel just how cold I was against him in comparison.

He blinked, and I could see the resolve slowly breaking in his mind as he let in the possibility. "Elena," he marveled. Afraid of rejection, he lifted his hand until it was barely over mine. He was scared to squeeze it, afraid I'd vanish, so I entangled our fingers together for him.

"Yes, Stefan," I coaxed, holding my breath. "I don't remember what happened, but I woke up on that street and I'm here. I'm back. The killer... Or whatever took me... They let me go."

"Elena." He said my name again, like it was a rediscovered treasure meant for only him to find. He was having trouble breathing, his eyes scanning over my face for any mistakes or flaws that would imply that I was an imposter. When he found none, all he could do was whisper "Elena" once more before wrapping his arms tightly around me and pulling me against him. I don't think he ever wanted to let go, but that was fine with me. After a few silent moments, I could feel his hot tears against my shoulder, causing my own eyes to water.

"Shhh, shhh. It's okay, it's okay," I said to him between my own tears too, placing my lips on the spot where his neck met his shoulder. I couldn't even imagine what he had gone through this past week, overwhelmed by guilt while trying to come to terms with the fact that I had probably been killed. The saddest part though, was that he had had no hope to begin with. Maybe he thought he didn't deserve to get a miracle. But when he realized I was there, and his cold, denial-ridden wall just crumbled, I could see that hope returning to his eyes, and I swore, the way he looked at me, like I was the best thing that ever happened to him, was something I would never forget.

And this was the exact moment, where he was crying into my shoulder and repeatedly muttering "Thank God," and "I missed you so much" along with something that sounded like an Italian prayer over and over... This was the moment that I realized I was definitely, completely, one hundred percent in love with him. Because his pain was my pain, because he couldn't live without me, just like I couldn't live without him. Ilobbed him, and I knew it to the depth of my soul.

And I was going to say it, too, except for the fact that when I pressed my face against Stefan's shoulder once again, the only thing I could concentrate on was the pulse beneath his flesh and the strange, unfamilar but intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. For a brief, terrifying moment, I forgot about everything: who he was, what he meant to me...

I didn't understand why, but suddenly, all I wanted -all I needed- was whatever was coursing through his veins.

* * *

_**A/N: Oooooh no! What's going on with Elena? What happened to her in that week while she was gone? How will Stefan react? And where's Damon? What will happen to Stefan and Elena now? Obviously, this was a very busy chapter, so please let me know what you thought. Your feedback means everything to me! :) sorry for the sort of slow update; school has been so busy! I promise though, I will continue to update as fast as I can as long as you guys still want to read!**_

_**Please leave a review letting me know what you liked, what you didn't like, what you want to see, or just any feedback you may have! Each review inspires me so much! **_

_**Thank you for reading! Xoxo**_

_**Sara**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**ELENA'S POV**_

It all started coming back to me.

First, the memories hit me like a dream you can't quite remember, where you get a flash of _something _and forget it the next second. Later on, I started recalling images: a bloody wrist at my mouth, my neck crusted by my own blood, Damon limply resting on a cold floor, bleeding and weak.

Then I remembered a voice in the back of my head, a voice that clearly wasn't my own. The anonymous words were clear, but I failed to comprehend their meaning. _You need to feed, _they had said. _You need to feed to complete the transition. _

What was that supposed to mean?

"Would you like anything else?" Stefan asked softly, his leaf green eyes shining more than they had been an hour ago, when he was so close to a mental breakdown that he had nearly checked himself into a hospital after just seeing my face. Every time he did something as small as glance up at my face, his breath would catch and his entire demeanor would visibly soften. Every few minutes, he'd do something to make sure I was there, whether it was a brief once-over of my thin frame or a quick touch. I took note of this as he reached over and timidly held my hand.

The glances, they were fine; I understood where he was coming from completely. The touches though… couldn't he just _stop _that? It was really starting to aggravate me. Every brush of his fingertips was like a painful fire searing into my skin, leaving unpleasantly hot skin in its wake. I could have sworn I felt his pulse every time, making my body ache, and for the life of me I could not understand what was causing such a strange reaction. All I knew was that Stefan _needed _to stop touching me before I cut his hand off.

"No," I replied curtly. "I'm fine. Thank you."

_Yes, I actually do need something, _I thought to myself. _I need for you to stand at the other end of the room, please._

"Good," Stefan chuckled to himself, "because I think you've cleared out my entire refrigerator." It was probably true. I was starving. Apparently, whoever had taken me captive was not concentrated on feeding me. Maybe the voice in my mind was telling me that I had to eat.

Nothing seemed to satisfy me though.

I tried to stifle my sigh of relief when Stefan withdrew his hand from the table and placed it back in his lap. I could see that the wheels in his head were beginning to spin again; every second, he was looking more and more like the man I knew. "So, what happened?" he inquired gently, in a tone that implied that I did not have to answer if I didn't want to. Didn't he realize I was willing to share anything with him?

I sat back in the wooden chair. "I don't remember much," I admitted sullenly. "Um, my neck was bleeding. There was blood in my mouth too, but it didn't really taste salty like it should have. Maybe it wasn't my blood. I don't know. It tasted bad. Coppery. Then I woke up in the middle of the road a few hours ago."

Furrowing his brows, Stefan nodded. He took a deep breath, running his hands across his face a few times before returning my gaze. "Damon?"

"I don't know if he's dead or alive," I confessed. With every word, Stefan looked like he had been punched in the gut. As soon as I opened my mouth, all hope drained from his face. That look made my stomach twist. _I_ was the one inflicting that pain. "I saw him, I think. But he wasn't conscious."

Stefan bit his bottom lip and rose up from his chair, pacing for a few moments. Then, he made his way over to the small kitchen area. At first, by force of habit it seemed, he walked over to the orange prescription bottle that rested in the corner to make sure that it was still there. Within a few seconds, when he caught me staring, he swiftly opened a cabinet and attempted to casually shove it inside.

"They're for insomnia," he started. I had a feeling he was going to leave it at that, but when he kept going, I was surprised. "…Shakes as well. And headaches. And sneeze attacks… those get rough. Depression too."

My brows knitted together in a combination of awe and painful realization. There Stefan was, broken and before me, finally admitting the one thing that may have been his biggest insecurity. But why was he telling me this right now? Because he felt he had nothing left to give? He had to be tired of faking his pure sanity, and spending a week without Damon, -the one soul who knew and sympathized with what he was going through- surely would make anyone realize how fragile love is. "Those are symptoms of withdrawal, aren't they?"

"Yes. That's why I have the medication."

"Okay."

His entire body froze. Stefan turned so that he was facing me and blinked. "Pardon?"

"I said okay," I confirmed. I was rewarded with a blank look. "Everyone has a past. I've told you that. It doesn't change who you are to me at all, Stefan. Whoever you were a year ago, it's not who you are now."

I really wished that I could have saved the look on his face, take a still-frame photograph in my mind, but it would have been impossible to capture the emotions that flickered through his lively eyes in that moment. Adoration, love, shame, amazement, fear, shock, and relief were present, along with many others that were impossible to catch. No one had _ever _looked at me with such a chilling intensity as Stefan, like I was the air that he needed to breathe in order to survive. It thrilled me; if it were anyone else I probably would have been terrified. But not Stefan.

Following the intimacy of this moment, my throat began to ache once again, shattering the moment. I tore my eyes away from his, clenching my fists.

"Is something wrong?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"No," I answered far too quickly. "Actually, yes. There is one more thing I remember from this past week. And I just can't understand it…"

"What?"

I hesitated.

"Elena, _what _do you remember?"

"Someone told me that I have to feed… to complete the transition." I spoke shakily, my voice unsteady in confusion. How could I explain to him what I was thinking when I didn't understand it myself?

I was expecting another baffled look from Stefan, but when I gained the courage to stare up at him, his chiseled features were nothing like I had imagined. Eyes wide, Stefan stared off and started thinking to himself, brain in full gear. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "There's no way…"

"There's no way for _what_?!" Now, I was beginning to panic. What was he talking about? What hadn't I picked up on?

Stefan strode over to his computer, busily flipping through tab after tab until he found what he was looking for. "Katherine and I were looking it up together earlier… We laughed at it, thought it was a ridiculous website full of made up information… It can't be…"

I wanted to ask him more about our current situation, but my stomach suddenly twisted. _Katherine and I were looking it up. Katherine and I. Together. Katherine and I… were together. We laughed. Together!_

Had he shown her his apartment? Was she up here?

She had confessed to having an interest in Stefan. If she did _anything _to make a move on him while I was gone, I swear…

Forget it, I told myself. There are more important things to worry about right now.

"What is going on?" I finally said.

Stefan shook his head, now making his way to the kitchen, frantic. "Everyone was making jokes about it. It's not like this could actually be true…" I stood at the table, frozen as I watched him get a knife and make his way back over to me. I took a step back.

"What are you doing with that?"

Stefan took a deep breath, calming himself down. He lifted his eyes and stared at me softly, willing for me to understand. "I know it may sound crazy, love, but I just want to try something. I promise I'll explain afterwards…" Then, Stefan took the knife and lightly drew it across his wrist, his eyes glued to my face the entire time. I gasped as soon as I noticed what he was doing.

Yes, he had officially lost it. Great. Just great.

Then, my eyes fell on the blood evenly flowing out of his shallow wound. I smelled it, too; the intoxicating scent was emanating from the vibrant liquid; it was so beautifully red against Stefan's pale skin. I wanted it, _needed _it, and I quickly realized that _this _was indeed what I had been craving all along. Slowly, losing all train of thought, I grabbed his arm and took a step closer. My skin was no longer burning with an uncomfortable fire; now it was burning with ravenous anticipation. I brought my lips to the cut, his sweet blood finally reach my tongue. My senses exploded, and I latched onto his arm and started sucking. I felt him attempt to tug it away, but I ignored him; I was much stronger now. And I needed more. This small wound was not enough…

Any sense of control faded, a primal instinct from deep within me kicking in and taking control over my mind and body. I felt my gums twist with an agonizing pain, but I was too hungry to care. The moment I realized just how sharp my teeth had suddenly gotten, I moved away from Stefan's arm, opened my mouth, released an animalistic snarl, and bit into his neck.

I hardly even noticed Stefan's sharp intake of breath as he tried desperately not to scream.

* * *

_**AN: Ahhhhh, so much angst in this chapter! Oh no, how will Elena get herself out of this one? Elena is a vampire and Stefan told her about his addiction! One step forward, one step back, lol. I know things are getting pretty crazy, but I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I know it's a bit shorter than usual, but I really wanted to update something for you guys this week, and let me say, school is INSANE right now, so I'm really trying my best to update as often as I can!**_

_**Please leave a review :) Let me know what you loved, what you hated, what you want to see! Please tell me what you thought :D As long as you guys want to keep reading, I will keep writing, so let me know! How are things going to change for Stefan and Elena now? Will they be able to make it through this without falling apart? And what about Damon?**_

_**Thanks! **_

_**Xoxo**_

_**Sara :D**_


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